Ghirahim's Tale: A Dark Legend
by Vembra Isles
Summary: In the adventure of Ghirahim's life story, we explore the past of our cunning villian. A dark king, a raging war and a love torn apart: these are the things that shape the past. I've seen it and am here to tell you his story. Rated T for sugesstive themes
1. Introducton

_I_ _do not own The Legend of Zelda or have any offiliation with Nintendo. __This is fanfiction and should be taken only as such._

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><p><strong>Part 1:<strong>

**The Glimpse**

It had been forever since he had felt fear. Back before he was made a demon lord and stepped one foot into Demise's domain. Those were times before his life was clouded in darkness and hatred. But the mere thought of confronting his dark past sent a shiver down his spine.

Ghirahim wasn't born evil, you know. And if someone tries to tell you otherwise, don't bother to listen, the story I tell is the full truth. I was there. Who else can claim that?

But enough of that, while I know your probably anxious to know Ghirahim's tale, I'm sorry you won't find that here. No, this is merely a moment in time where Ghirahim is about to free his master Demise from his imprisonment, in which the boy in green lay in his bed sound asleep, knowing tomorrow will be the day he will awaken Zelda and bring her home safely.

It's the dead of night, creatures stir outside as a mysterious figure walks toward the Knight Academy. Cloaked in black, the figure makes his way into the building, hardly making a noise.

Cautiously, he enters into Link's bedroom. He stares down at the sleeping hero, making sure he truly is asleep, then, he gently grabs hold of the Master Sword that lies at the bedside next to Link's shield.

Thereupon, in a flash of diamonds, the figure is gone.

He teleports in front of the statue of the goddess, that looms in the shadow of the full moon. Transfixing on the Master sword, he summons the spirit of the sword to arise and confront him.

Out of the hilt, the spirit, gleaming in the moonlight, stares down at the dark figure from her place in the air. "Demon Lord Ghirahim," She states his full name, "I detect an 85 percent chance that you have stolen me from my master. I ask you to please take me back to him at once."

Removing the hood of his cloak, Ghirahim looks up at her and smiles, "I'm afraid I can't do that, Fi. You see, I don't mean to harm that boy as you may imagine, not yet at least. No, I'm here to speak to you." He tosses the Master sword to the side without hesitation and folds his arms across his chest, staring up at her.

"Me? What kind of business could you possibly want with _me_? I don't recall that we've met before." Fi questions.

"Oh," Ghirahim takes a step toward her, "But we _have._"

Fi takes a moment to compute her thoughts, "My databases show no encounter between you and I since my master awoke me."

"Ah, but that's just it, we met before you saw that boy." Ghirahim pushes forward. "Before you ever had a master, Fi."

Not being used to being told she's wrong, Fi shakes her head, "That's impossible, I was created by the goddess to serve my master. Other than now, I lied waiting for his coming for an uneventful 387 years. My findings are 100 percent correct, Ghirahim, we have never met." She states firmly.

Gritting his teeth, Ghirahim nearly shouts, "You don't remember! Can't you see? It was the goddess, Hylia, she wiped your memory and turned you into _this!_" He spits out the word, "A brain dead, passionless spirit." Then, Ghirahim lays his hand on her metallic shoulder, and something astounding happens.

A lustrous blue spirit in one moment, then in a blur of gold light, Fi becomes something entirely different. Human.

The numbers and statistics fade away as does the blue film behind her eyes, opening her eyes to the dark, glistering image of the night sky that comes first to her view. "Wh-what?" Words come out in a voice she can't recognize. Is it hers? But before she could come think about that, she feels a pressure on her right hand and finds Ghirahim placing it in his.

His bronze hand sends a sensation up her spine, "You see?" Ghirahim turns her hand over in his. "_This _is who you are." Fi lifts this limb, _a hand, _a body part her master and many others bore and examines it. Somehow, she manages to move the strange legs that sprout from her hand, twisting and turning them with ease.

"What is this sorcery?" Looking down at her strange new form, soft and delicate, Fi shudders, only having a curious thin white blouse to hang loosely over her shoulders to just above her knees, "What have you done to me?"

"Given you your life back...for a short time." Ghirahim reaches and stokes her cheek delicately, "My, I nearly forgot how truly beautiful you are." He whispers loud enough for Fi to hear.

The cool of Ghirahim's metallic hand doesn't help with Fi being awfully cold, yet she feels a warmth that draws her in. Why isn't she angry? She knows she should be but something deep inside her is holding her fear back.

"Who...am I?" She realizes it's the perfect question.

Ghirahim almost frowns, placing his hand behind her neck, he sighs, "You don't remember anything?"

Instead of giving Ghirahim a straight anser, Fi pauses to think. There are memories hidden within a grey fog, voices and people. Something stands out among it all: a young man, with pale skin a icy white hair.

"You!" Fi explodes, making Ghirahim jump, "I knew _you_!" It is joy, not anger that leaks in her voice, as cheerful memories of a Ghirahim past bubble up in her mind. One memory after the other after the other... She did know him once, and oh, they were inseparable! "Ghirahim," Fi exclaims with great joyousness, "My _best _friend!" With this, Fi jumps forward with her arms spread wide, knocking Ghirahim over with her arms around him, "I remember! And oh, how I've missed you."

Smiling wide, Ghirahim embraces her in his arms, "I was afraid you wouldn't, all this time waiting for the chance to see you again. When Hylia turned you into a spirit she..." Oh no, he had mentioned it.

It's silent as Fi slowly but surely retreats from Ghirahim's hold. Sitting upright, she looks at him in disarray, "...Hylia." The golden goddess, yes, she remembers her face from long ago.

_Fi, _the words of Hylia echo from within her mind, _The weight you have excepted to carry of guiding the future hero comes with it's price upon the life you live now. You will forget all of it, every person, place you have encountered thus far shall be wiped completely from your memory. The only one you shall recall is I, Hylia, and the hero I mention for you to wait for._ _Wicked forces will seek to feed you lies of what was. Listen to them not for they only desire to use you for evil. I especially want you to beware of him, _flashes of the young man with white hair arouse, _this is Ghirahim, a deceiver and servant of Demise. He shall one day bring you to believe you and he were once allies, an attempt to draw you in and cease the your master's destiny to destroy Demise. It is then you shall remember my words from this day in time. You bare no history with Ghirahim and should not reckon otherwise. Remember who you are, Fi, the keeper to our fate: the Spirit of the Master Sword._

Then, it all comes back. The darkness breaks the light and a smirking face, drawing near, is what she sees at that second. That horrible face... "_Liar_!" Fi doesn't take a moments hesitation to come to feet. "It's all a _lie_!" The so-called "memories" come crashing down in a torrent, grabbing the back of her head, she gasps, "You're a liar! None of it is true!" She mostly shouts at herself, trying to convince her conscience none of that is real.

"What?" Ghirahim stands, shocked. "No, I'm _not_!"

Roads, rivers, forests, fires_, _songs, voices, people... _Ghirahim._

_I wish I was as intelligent as you, Fiala._

Fiala? In the misty fog, the young girl the pale boy spoke to had short black hair and enchanting blue eyes that seemed to swirl like a whirlpool. She smiled, blushing.

_Intelligence is a wonderful gift, but my heart longs dearly to help the world and make the darkness vanish, _The girl looks skyward, _I'd do anything- go anywhere to drive out the evil that lurks in our world. I would. _

The young Ghirahim takes her and in his, _And where does your heart find me?_

Fiala comes in close and stares deeply into his eyes, grinning. _My heart will, no matter what, find you. Never forget that._

Embracing her in his arms, Ghirahim whispers in her ear, _And I promise mine shall_ _find you in return_.

A sword suddenly slashes forward and the memory breaks and shatters into dust. Knocked out of her reverie, Fi gasps at the blood pouring out of Ghirahim's side. He cries out and falls to the ground once more, and from behind him stands the hero in green, gripping the pale, lifeless Master Sword.

"Master Link!" She runs toward him, but realizing she's still human, she stops in her tracks.

Link gives her a confused look, clearly not recognizing her.

She sighs, "It's me, Fi. Your servant." What a fool she must look to be, "My form is changed but I can 100 percent assure you I'm the same spirit you know." The calculations were coming back, the numbers, the facts-everything. Looking down at her hands, tan and fleshy she speaks to herself, "Your not a human, it's a complete lie." But as her entire body starts to glow a bright blue, a silent tear runs down Fi's face.

Link stands there, dumbfounded, as both his sword and the mysterious figure illuminate.

Getting one last look at her palms, Fi shuts her eyes tight. What had just happened? She knew Ghirahim had tried to speak to her but could not remember what about. All she knew was that her Master had saved her once again...

That familiar blue world came as she looked down upon Link, who almost looked surprised to see her. "Master," Fi started in her robotic vocalization, "From the expression upon your face I detect a 62 percent chance that something out of the ordinary has just occurred, unfortunately, I can't seem to recollect thought besides Ghirahim attempting to verbalize with me."

"...Human you say? Black hair, blue eyes?" If Fi had the programing to laugh she would, "I'm afraid that's quite impossible, Link, 97 percent to be exact. Perhaps you were hallucinating, for I am merely a sword spirit." With that said, the blue figure flashes into a ball of light and disappears into the Master sword, giving it life once more.

It was silent. Had Link truly just seen Fi as a _human_? The very sight of her had made the hairs on the back of his head stand. He could vividly remember her beautiful form and captivating blue eyes that almost seemed to have pulled him in.

Link turned suddenly, remembering Ghirahim. There lied a puddle of blood on the ground, but the demon lord had vanished.

Back on the surface, Ghirahim lies with his back against a stone wall. He doesn't know exactly where he was but he didn't care. Pressing down on the deep cut on his side with his cloak, Ghirahim holds back his tears as best as he could.

It wasn't the tear in his flesh that gives him anguish but the words that ring in his head over and over again: _You're a liar! None of it is true! _Fi truly doesn't believe him, and never would. Ghirahim tried to accept it.

The curious thing was that he wasn't lying. The memories that had rung through Fi's mind were once complete reality.

Here something to think about: If he was telling the truth, then why had Hylia told Fi otherwise? Saying Fi bore no past with Ghirahim when she really did?

These our the things that shape the past, puzzle pieces lost in time. It is now time to find them, dearest friend, and see this past for ourselves. Take my hand now, hold tight, the ahead road is treacherous.

_This is a dark legend..._

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><p><strong><em>Author's Note: Thank you for reading, this is my first fanfic and I'm happy at my progress. I hope you give me a comment to tell me how you liked it and what I can fix. Enough veiws and I'll be sure to start working on Part 1 soon. Once again, thank you!<em>**

**_Zelda Forever! -Vembra_**


	2. Part 1

_I do not own the Legend of Zelda or have any offiliatian with Nintendo. This is fan fiction and should only be taken as such._

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><p><strong>Part 1<strong>

**Birth by Flames**

"_No light, no light in your bright blue eyes. I never knew daylight could be so violent. A revelation in the light of day, you can chose what stays and what fades away."_

_-No light, No light, Florence and the Machine_

It is exactly 398 years before the events of the pertaining the Skyward Sword. Before the hero in green or the momentous piece of outcrop aroused and lifted towards the sky. Someday known to be Skyloft.

But here, a war of good and evil has begun to rage. Malevolent monsters scour the world, murdering humans and setting the land on fire. The cries of innocent men, woman and children echo among a forest, burned to the ground now. Everyone is dead, but their cries still ring like haunting bells.

It is here that our story begins, amongst the ashes and bone, a lone tree, burned and twisted, stands solitary like and island in the ocean.

There is a light that draws near, bright, shimmering, gold. Within the gleaming spark, a woman, with long blonde hair and a solid white dress floats in midair. She moves along the remains of the forest, everything her glowing aura touches slowly starts to regrow, but only so much.

She sighs, "Oh, what chaos this land must have endured, everything is singed and dead. I look among these lands and see the bones of my people bare and still ridden with their blood. How much the sight kills me..."

Hylia, the golden goddess, comes across the crippled tree, "The last to stand, I'm afraid it's dead either way. No one is left to live, how very tragic." A tear of amber slips down the goddess's cheek and to the burned ground, seeping into the soil and sprouting a flower.

It's then that something moves from behind the tree, peeking it's small head around the black trunk and staring up at the almighty goddess.

Enlightened to see the face, alive and well, the goddess leans in to get a better look, "Hello, human." It's a boy, a child, his face is pale and marked with soot and dirt.

He sinks under the goddess's light and mummers a small, "Hello," In a cracked, hoarse voice.

The boy shakes uncontrollably, "Do I frighten you?" Hylia questions.

He looks up at her with his eyes, red from the exposure to all the smoke, "N-no." He stammers, letting out a few coughs afterwards.

What horror the boy must have been through, with cuts and bruises all over. He is pale as bone with hair even paler, white as falling snow. Shirtless and with pants ripped and dirty, Hylia takes pity on him. Then starts to think of how miraculous it is of him to be alive and that the gods must have spared him for a reason then put him in Hylia's path to find, "What happed to your family?" She regrets asking as soon as the words come out.

The boy shudders and shakes his head, "M-monsters. Fire. S-scream. Run. R-run! Run! _Run_!" Gripping the back of his head, the boy shouts in his broken voice, "_S-stop! Noo! This can't- no! No. No. Please! Can't be true. Can't be true." _

Hylia places herself on the ground and runs to the boy, grabbing him and wrapping her arms around him. "No, don't do this. It's alright, my son, it will be okay. Please, don't weep." It was the first time Hylia had touched any mortal, but this boy aroused something in her. Made her feel pain in her heart she couldn't stand to bare. It was so soon, yet Hylia knew she loved this child. Loved him more than any human on the earth.

The boy wrapped his skinny arms around the goddess and wept although she had told him otherwise. Hylia didn't care, she stroked his bare back, hushing him.

Finally, the goddess asked, "What is your name, my child?"

Silence as the boy took a step back, with eyes still teary, he heaved, "I c-can't remember.."

So deep in shock, the boy had forgotten his own name..."Oh," The goddess slowly began to smile, "Then I suppose I'll have to give you one. Would you like that?"

He nodded hesitantly.

"Hmm..." The child had lived through the blaze of the woods that should have killed him. He was meant for something, Hylia was sure of it, "I know!" She gleamed, "I'll name you _Ghirahim._"

The child looked puzzled.

"In the language of us gods, that means _warrior_." She grinned.

"_Ghirahim_..." He whispers to himself, looking down at his dirty hands and smiling, something he thought he'd never be able to do again.

With her heart set on fire, Hylia outstretches her hand to Ghirahim, "Come with me, my son, I promise I'll take good care of you. You won't have to live alone."

With taking her hand, Ghirahim's doesn't realize his life is going to change forever. Changing the course of not only his but many other lives. But for now, both the goddess and the mortal child walk along the ash, hand in hand.

Hylia was right: Ghirahim_ was_ meant for something. It would only occur to her much later it was for all the _wrong_ reasons...

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><p><em>Part 1 as promised, thank you to all my followers and humble readers, your the reason I do this. The next part will <strong>really<strong> kick off the story and will be longer, so expect a wait. It will be worth it, I promise. Note: I enjoy reveiws and **will** respond if you have any questions or comments on this story. Feel free to look at my profile and send me a PM, I'll do anything for the fans of my works. :^)_

_Zelda Forever- Vembra_


	3. Part 2

_I do NOT own The Legend of Zelda or have ANY offiliation with Nintendo. This is fanfiction and should only be taken as such. _

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><p><strong>Part 2<strong>

**The Safe Haven**

"_My love has concrete feet, my love is an iron ball. Wrapped around your ankles over the waterfall."_

_-Heavy in your Arms, Florence and the Machine _

There are places in this fiery, war-stricken world that had been spared from the blazes. All because of the power of the goddess, Hylia. She keeps the humans in a land protected by what they call the Great Barrier. An invisible wall built strong by the ancient magic of the gods to keep out any evil that dare try to cross over. Inside lies acres and acres of lush earth consisting of both field and forest.

The woods are lush with many shades of bright green and yellows while the plains stretch far and wide. Here live the goddess's tribe of humans. A large band of faithful servants that sweep across the lands, the humble worshipers of the divine goddess, Hylia.

We come back to Ghirahim, many years after his first meeting with Hylia as a young boy. He has grown older now, but still budding as a man among the goddess's tribe he came to be apart of long ago.

His complexion is still a palish white, but after long years of running and hunting among the trees, his build much thicker and muscular then the scrawny child he once was.

The wind whips around him, blowing through his chalky white hair and sending a sending a shiver down his spine.

Trying not to make any more movements, he walks forth in the deep brush, hiding himself behind a tree as he peers over to take a look at what lies ahead.

Taking a drink from a pond, a lone deer hunches over ten yards away, unaware of Ghirahim's presence.

Holding his breath, Ghirahim removes the bow that hangs over his shoulders and pulls out an arrow. Reading himself, he aims for the deer's jugular and without hesitation, lets go of the arrow.

It's a clean kill as the deer never saw it coming. So with a smile, Ghirahim hoists his bow over his shoulder and walks over the his fallen prey.

"Wow," Kenton's voice nearly makes Ghirahim jump, "That was a great kill, Ghirahim." Coming from behind him, Kenton slaps Ghirahim on the back, then kneels down to examine the doe. "Ha, wait 'till Fiala get's a load of this." Ghirahim tries to hide his blushing face as Kenton rips the arrow out from the deer's still neck. "Oh," He twirls the bloody arrow between his fingers, smirking up at Ghirahim, "Fiala will love me when I tell her_ I'm_ the one who took this guy out."

Ghirahim takes no hesitation in punching Kenton in the jaw. As he cries out in pain, Ghirahim grabs the dead deer by it's front legs and starts to pull backwards, not giving Kenton another look.

Kenton's mule stands in waiting at the edge of the forest. Hauling the limp deer into the cart the mule pulls, Ghirahim gives the mule a quick stroke on his back then hops on top.

_Stupid_ _Kenton can walk home_, He decides, driving the animal forward with haste but not fast enough to knock the cart out of balance.

Back at home, the goddess's settlement, villagers walk the streets with baskets full of fruits and berries. Small children run up to Ghirahim as he trots along, awed at the size of the kill. They greet him with big smiles and friendly hellos as he recognizes each one by their names.

Everyone is dressed in their best attire all except Ghirahim, it seems. For today is the goddess's coming, her visits have been scarce from the past years. All because of the war that storms outside the Great Barrier, a battle only worthy knights of the goddess's tribe have witnessed.

It's also the day Ghirahim hopes Hylia will finally except him to become a knight and fight. When he arrived in the haven, everyone was jealous because Hylia seemed to favor him over them, treating Ghirahim like a son. Each time she came to visit, she made sure to have time dedicated for Ghirahim whom she only came to love more and more. So much Hylia didn't find omitting him into her army very pleasant of a thought, saying she couldn't stand it if something bad were to happen.

"But I'm not a child anymore, Hylia." Were the words he spoke in their last conversation a year ago, "I want to fight for my people, for _you_. I've been trained well, just let me fight."

The goddess had hesitated, not wanting to bring sadness to her child, "Maybe next time..."

And she left it at that. Now was the year Ghirahim was determined to bring honor to her and defeat the darkness in her name. But it wasn't just that: It had been almost twelve years since he had seen the outside world. While the Great Barrier was invisible, their haven was also hidden in a circle of steep mountains, keeping the land outside out of view. And if you wanted to leave, you'd have to somehow make it past the many guard stations set up along the barrier.

No one had ever made it; it was impossible.

"Ghirahim," Knocked out of his reverie, he looked down at the man standing to the mule's side.

Halting, he greeted, "Hey, Hendrix."

Hendrix is a tall slender man, older than Ghirahim, who's in charge of the festivals that run within the village. Hendrix crosses his arms over his chest, "Why don't you take a break, kid. I'll draw this thing to the feasting grounds, Fiala's waiting for you in the Isle, anyway."

At the very sound of her name, Ghirahim's heart flutters, "Fiala?" He hops off the mule and hands the reins to Hendrix, "Thanks," He starts to jog down a street, knowing exactly where to go.

"Hey, where's Kenton?" Hendrix shouts after Ghirahim. But he leaves him hanging as he begins to weave through the many tangle of paths, trying not to bump into anyone.

Everyone in the whole town knows that Ghirahim has a thing for the young and beautiful Fiala. She's the fairest among all the young woman here and every boy couldn't help but give Ghirahim an envious glare or comment, knowing Fiala liked him in return. While every girl has had their eyes locked on Ghirahim, with his strong build and cunning personality. He's different and all the girls have fallen in love him.

Upon hearing the sound of a soft instrument ride along the breeze, Ghirahim smiles and slows his pace to a walk.

The Isle of Songs is detached from the village but still stands close by. It was here in this large stone structure that both Ghirahim and Fiala realized their love for each other almost a year ago, when they were both paired to dance in an annual feast celebration. Oh, how wonderful Fiala could dance...

The music, strummed from a beautiful string instrument, whisked around Ghirahim in a soft sounding wind. It was their song, Fiala's and his, a pretty lullaby she would always complain not being able to find the right words to accompany the melody.

Fiala, you see, isn't only beautiful but very bright as well. She has the mind to stump the village's math instructor and come up with the prettiest harmonies on her golden lyre. The instrument, handed down to Fiala from her mother before her death, was valuable and, as the villagers commonly refereed to it "pure magic" when Fiala closed her eyes and strummed the stings delicately and perfectly.

Ghirahim held his breath as he opened the front doors of the Hall of Song.

Fiala stands there, in the middle of the chamber, not stopping to look over her shoulder as Ghirahim hesitantly walks forward, not wanting to interrupt.

A few steps away from her, she finally stops playing. Twisting around, lyre in hand, Fiala gives him a big smile, "Hello, Ghirahim! I've been waiting for you. How was your hunt?" She gleams with her big, ocean blue eyes that, from the moment they'd met, enchanted Ghirahim.

"You should have seen the size of the doe I killed," He expresses, outstretching his arms wide, "Everyone's going to devour it!"

Smiling, Fiala crosses her arms across her lyre, "And what of Kenton? I know you two conflict often, please tell me you didn't get in a struggle with him." She pleads half heartedly, not in complete concern for Kenton but just wanting to make sure Ghirahim was acting like a gentleman.

Scratching the back of his head, he chuckles, "Yeah, about that..."

"You beat him? Ghirahim!" Fiala exclaims in worry_,_ almost shocked.

He lays his hand on her shoulder, "It's fine, I didn't do anything serious. I only hit him because he dared call you his."

"Oh," Fiala is only a bit relieved, it seems, but then smiles at the thought of Ghirahim fighting for their relationship._ "_Kenton's...alright, I guess."

"_Fiala_!"He gasps.

"I'm just teasing, Ghirahim, take a joke._"_ Fiala laughs.

A still silence follows after the echo's of her laugh fades away. Having no words left to say, they just stare into each other, but Fiala can't help but turn away blushing.

Lifting a finger under her chin, Ghirahim makes her turn his way, "I heard you play our melody_." _Dropping his hand, the words are almost a whisper.

She glances down at her lyre, "Yes, the one I still can't find words too." Sighing, she opens the satchel at her side and sets the instrument gently inside._ "_I can find words for anything else, except those to express what we both feel."

"You will find them Fiala," He starts, grinning, "But me? I'm no use for anything but bringing death, which is why I'm a hunter and must join Hylia's army."

His words are serious and so sudden, which surprises Fiala as she reaches up to caress his pale white face, "No, don't say that, Ghirahim. You are worth so much more." She reassures him_, _seeing the tears that start to well in his eyes."Hylia loves you more than all of us, so you must be worth _something_ great."

Ghirahim takes a breath, then slowly starts to regain himself, "I wish I was as intelligent as you, Fiala." He states suddenly, trying to get his mind back on the right track again.

Fiala smiles, hearing the voice of the Ghirahim she know best, "Intelligence is a wonderful gift," She starts, "but my heart longs dearly to help the world and make the darkness vanish," Fiala's eyes raise skyward, at the light that gleams from the hole in the ceiling, "I'd do anything- go anywhere to drive out the evil that lurks in our world. I would."

It's the same wish that Ghirahim has, one of the reasons the two are so inseparable_. _Taking her hands, he grins, "And where does your heart find me?"

Fiala comes in close and stares deeply into his eyes_, "_My heart will, no matter what, find you. Never forget that._" _Everything she says, she means entirely.

Embracing her in his arms, Ghirahim whispers in her ear, _"_And I promise mine shall find you in return." Then, he gently gives her a kiss on her cheek.

But when his lips draw near her's, Fiala takes a step back, shaking her head, "Not now, Ghirahim," You could hear the longing in her voice, but somehow manages to keep her emotions tame, "The goddess will be arriving soon, and you _still_ haven't spoken to Hylia of me." She crosses her arms, "I rather have her approve me before move along any further._" _Ghirahim, who grew up a wild and reckless hunter among the woods, still was getting used to Fiala's calm, down to earth personality.

Sighing, nearly disappointed, Ghirahim gives her a weak smile, still aching for that kiss, "...Your right." I would have been their first, all because of Fiala's 'no naughtiness' attitude, their relationship was slow going. But if it would have been up to Ghirahim, who knows? They might have already been happily married by now.

"Good." It was settled, "Now we ought to get going, the hour grows late." With that, the two run off to the front doors, pushing and teasing like small children.

Outside, a light draws in the west, not the waning sun but something much more mighty.

The goddess has come early...

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><p><em>Author's Note: Thought I would be able to fit Hylia into this part, now I realize how long this fic may turn out to be. OH WELL! We have only scratched the surface of my Ghirahim's Tale, and I can't wait for the final product. As you probably figured out: Fiala is Fi. I love being able to sculpt her character and Ghirahim's. They will both progress and change, I promise that, as their love will soon be tested. Anyway, as always leave a reveiw, fave, follow... all that goodness.<em>

_Zelda Forever! - Vembra_


	4. Part 3

_I do NOT own the Legend of Zelda or have ANY offiliation with Nintendo. This is fan faction and should only be taken as such._

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><p><strong>Part 3<strong>

**The Fallen Star**

"...Midas is king and he holds me so tight, and turns me to gold in the sunlight."

_-Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up), by Florence and the Machine_

Two figures run through the streets of the goddess's settlement under the setting sun. The amber beams gleam off the girl's shimmery blue blouse and the boy's chalky white hair that whips around his ears.

Knowing they are late, the pair race through the empty streets, almost knocking down pots and baskets when they pass through the town market.

"C'mon Ghira," Fiala heaves though pants as they start to slow their pace, "Hylia is gonna expect _you,_ of all people, to be there to greet her."

Ghirahim nods, knowing Fiala makes a good point. Ever year, he is the one to take the goddess's delicate hand in his and walk her along to greet everyone else.

Finally, they reach Feasting Grounds, where many tables are set up around a great fire. The aroma of cooked meet and oven baked bread fills his nose, making Ghirahim remember how hungry he is.

The tables are empty, plates abandoned as the villagers stand and wait quietly further away for that golden light coming from the west to touch down to earth.

"There she is," Ghirahim's lungs buckle as he and Fiala walk slowly to where everyone is standing. _It's been so long, _he thinks to himself, _I'm Hylia's son, yet I feel so timid in seeing her now. _They reach the circle of other villagers, Fiala gives Ghirahim a quick squeeze before going her own way to greet her friends and family.

"I thought you weren't going to make it," It's Hendrix.

Rolling his eyes, Ghirahim turns to him, "I'm Hylia's beloved, of course I had to make it."

_"Shh!_" Hendrix puts a finger over his lips then points skyward, "Here she comes,"

Everyone grows quiet as the light from west draws near. In the orb of gold light, a woman dressed in white slowly drifts downward to the group of civilians. Ghirahim smiles, relived to see Hylia alive and well. The same eased grin she gave _him _when she found him lying under that burned oak tree years ago. The love the two share at this moment is untouchable.

Hylia is now right above them. In still silence, everyone gets down on their knees and bow their heads in observance of her holiness. Ghirahim gets down on one knee and but still perks his head up to see his longtime friend. It was made clear long ago that Hylia didn't care wether he bowed or not, saying he was worth as much as herself.

She finally touched down to solid ground, her light illuminating the space around her, she smiled down at her people. Then looking in his direction, she beckoned in her soft, angelic voice, "Ghirahim."

Standing up, Ghirahim walked forward with a big grin on his face. He bowed his head when he came to stand before her. Hylia has long, glowing blonde hair that flows below her shoulders, and two strands that hang on the sides of her face, wrapped in colored strings.

Overcome with joy, she practically jumps forward, wrapping her arms around Ghirahim's neck, "I'm so glad to see you, Ghirahim." She whispers in his right ear.

He pulls Hylia into him, realizing their both the same height now, "I'm glad to see you too." A tear runs down his face, as Hylia pulls back he wipes it away.

The two stand smiling at each other, Hylia then reaches to stroke Ghirahim's soft white hair, "It's suffering for me to think that you will soon outgrow me." A goddess such as Hylia never ages, it was only recently the thought of Ghirahim much older struck her. She could not be by his side forever.

"Hush," He strokes her soft face, "That's a matter to worry about later." Leaning forward, he whispers, "For now I think it's time to celebrate."

Nodding, Hylia takes Ghirahim's hand with a smile and starts to walk to her people who slowly start to stand. "My beloved tribe," She starts, "Let the celebration _begin_!"

Shouts of joy and friendly chatter ring among the grounds for hours and hours later. They all dance around the fires light in laughter, eat delicious food at the tables as Hylia explains how much she's missed having real food, sing songs while the children play games like tag.

It's the only day Hylia can live like a human, jumping out of her orb of light and onto the fresh grass, laughing and playing with everyone else. "Sometimes," She begins after having a hefty gulp of fresh wine. Sitting at the head of the main table, everyone looks toward her, "I want to drop this whole goddess thing and just come to live with you _lovely _people!" Hylia's voice is uneven as she holds her bottle between her fingers, giggling, she continues, "I mean, being a divine being isn't all it's cut out to be." They all nod as if anyone knew how she felt, wondering wether it was Hylia or her drink talking.

"You...uh... have to look after everyone and do everything _all _by yourself because it's _your _responsibility." Taking another drink of wine, she continues with a big grin, "One of these days I'm gonna make myself human. I swear I am. I am! So I can live life like _I _want..." Her eyes start to droop, Ghirahim reaches to poke her but Hylia suddenly jumps up in her seat, "A toast!" She shouts a bit to loudly, lifting her wine glass in the air, "To my dear son, _Ghirahim_!"

While Ghirahim sulks in his seat, embarrassed, everyone raises their glass high, "_To Ghirahim!_" They all salute, taking a gulp of their wine.

Fiala, who sits quietly next to Ghirahim, takes a small sip. Cringing at the taste, she turns to him and whispers, "You still have to tell Hylia about us-"

"Patience, Fiala." Ghirahim cuts her off. "I have an idea: Why don't you play that pretty little instrument of yours to warm up to Hylia? We should take advantage of her drunkenness."

Nodding in agreement, Fiala stands up and turns to the goddess, "Your grace, I would like to play you a song on my lyre. A melody I dedicate especially to you."

Hylia smirks, taking one last gulp of wine, she chuckles, "Play away, little blue bird. Let me hear your song!"

Everyone goes quiet as Fiala takes out her lyre and holds in steady in hand. Ghirahim smiles up at her as Fiala begins her song:

_Hylia, or heavenly grace._

_Bless us this day._

_We hold up our hands in prayer._

_We believe in you._

There aren't many words, but Fiala continues to play that lovely tune on her lyre. The melody, you probably have heard. The notes will be past down through generation, one day to be called the Ballad of the Goddess.

But for now, Hylia giggles happily when the song is over, "How lovely the blue bird sings," Swinging her legs across her chair, the goddess traces the rim of her wine cup with a grin, "...how lovely..." She trails off.

Standing, Ghirahim whispers, "She's awfully lost now, it's the perfect time to express our feelings."

Fiala puts away her lyre then looks up at him, "But how a-"

This time, she isn't cut off by his words but by his lips pressing against hers. Fiala gets it and kisses Ghirahim back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Some whistle and some laugh, but all see the two in their romantic embrace. Ghirahim almost forgets it all, lost in Fiala's lips. While she gives into her longing and emotions. This is the way of saying I love you.

It's the sound of shattering glass that interrupts their kiss. Ghirahim looks over to Hylia.

She sits correctly in her seat, her hand balled in fist and broken glass and wine of n her empty plate. With firm, fiery eyes, Hylia stares down both Fiala and Ghirahim for a long while in the deadly silence. "_Ghirahim,"_ Her voice is no longer uneven but stern as she speaks with her teeth clenched together, "I would like a word, with you and your little _tramp_." That last word strikes him like a knife in the heart, but he nods. Holding Fiala's hand in his, they follow Hylia as she stands and silently passes southeast.

Away from anyone's earshot, Hylia turns suddenly and shouts, "What is wrong with you, _Ghirahim?_"

"I was planning to tell you!"

"Oh, but you didn't did you? You just got up and started to smooch your little girlfriend without a care in the world!" Glancing form Fiala to Ghirahim, she continues, "Do you think I'm that much of an idiot? That having a little drink can blind me from your antics? I'm a goddess, Ghirahim, I can see everyone and everything."

"You wouldn't have _understood_!" It goes quiet. Hylia looks at him in shook as he draws Fiala beside him, "You treat me like such a child and I'm sick of it." Everything inside of him starts to well up, "I can't fight in the war and now I can't be in love? I'm seventeen, Hylia, I think I can take care of myself."

Hylia's face remains unmoved as a tear falls form her eye. She heaves, "I love you, Ghirahim. And...maybe your right. You _aren't _a child anymore, I see that. But it's just hard to see my boy growing up in the blink of an eye." Wiping her watery eyes, she smiles weakly, "I only see you so many times, all the other days I see war and destruction. You and your tribe is all I have to keep myself going, the reason my army and I fight. Every one of you will someday shape our future for better or worse. So... I'm sorry if I'm a little...overprotective."

"Hylia," Ghirahim goes to her and gives her a warming embrace, as she sobs quietly in his ear. "It's okay, it's not your fault. I should have known better to know how your feeling."

Fiala stands there quietly, taking it all in. She is a column that stands between Ghirahim and Hylia, a roadblock between them. Realizing she is no use being here, she silently turns around to head back to Feasting Grounds.

"Fiala, is it?" It's Hylia, she examines Fiala in her blue and purple blouse and short black hair that hang right above her neck. "You will take care of my Ghirahim, wont you?" Hylia grins.

Fiala bows with a smile, "Of course, your grace." She then turns and slowly starts to walk away.

It's only Hylia and Ghirahim, "I've been meaning to tell you..." Hylia paces, "...I want you as a soldier in my army, Ghirahim."

It comes so sudden, the words drop like a brick as he stands there confounded. Then, one corner of his mouth lifts, then the other, "Oh, _Hylia_!" He exclaims, almost knocking her over when he jumps to give her a big hug. "Thank you, thank you!" He laughs, overcome with joyousness. Ghirahim retreats, "I must tell Fiala." He thinks aloud. Running in the other direction, he calls her name.

Hylia stands there, grinning. But inside she is afraid. Afraid of an arrow, a sword, a mace stabbing into Ghirahim's chest. Lying dead as Hylia crouches over him, crying her heart out.

Little did she know that when they both left tomorrow, something terrible _was _going to happen to Ghirahim. Something worse then death...

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><p><em>Author's Note: I got this part done early! Phew! With balancing school and family I suppose you can expect to see a new part evey weekend or so. I can't wait 'cause this story is about to get exiting! Oh and sorry for anyone who was a bit disturbed by a drunk Hylia, never even saw that coming. Anyways... wether your a new to this story or have been following, don't be afriad to PM me with questions or comments on this story. I love people who ask questions! As always, follow, fave, reveiw. It means a whole lot!<em>

**Zelda Forever!- Vembra**


	5. Part 4

_I do NOT own the Legend of Zelda or have any offiliation with Nintendo. This is fan ficion and should only be taken as such._

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><p>Part 5<p>

The Last Night

"_...that I could just understand the meaning of the word, you see, 'cause I've been scrawling it forever but it never makes sense to me at all."_

-_All This and Heaven Too, Florence and the Machine_

The fire had been put out and the tables put away. Feasting Grounds stood dark and vacant while everyone slept in their homes in the village.

The light of the full moon shines through a crack between two shudders in a home in the villa. The one lying quietly in his bed stares blankly at the soft beam on the wall across his bed. Ghirahim can't sleep, to many thoughts well in his brain for any kind of rest.

Tomorrow, he will walk through the Great Barrier and into the world he's longed to explore for so long. The same day he will have to say goodbye to everything he has ever known, friends, hunting among the forest, this lively village... Fiala.

Earlier, the two had danced around in joy at the news of Ghirahim being excepted into Hylia's army. If you could have only seen the delight in her eyes, would you understand better of why Ghirahim felt so sorrowful now.

Ghirahim knows she wants this for him, truly, but now remembering it will also come with a anguished goodbye, he can't help but ache for her.

"Ghirahim," A voice from the dark emerges, _her _voice, steady and quiet as the night.

Lifting his head up, he smiles weakly. "Hello, Fiala." The words make his stomach turn.

She stands there for moment, looking at him lying peacefully in his bed. With a hushed sigh, Fiala slowly makes her way over. Without a single word, she slides down next to him, turning over on her back side to stare at the dark ceiling. "I'll be plain and clear with you, Ghirahim. I don't want you to go."

Turning to face her, he frowns, as if the statement was a shock, "I know..." He mummers mostly to himself.

The sweet, far song of a nightingale is the only thing that breaks through the stillness of this night. A almost sad sounding melody to Ghirahim, he leans to kiss Fiala's lips. She turns and allows this because she too feels the anguish Ghirahim does, it eats them both from the inside out, surfacing slowly but violently up toward their skin.

Ghirahim places his face next to Fiala's, whispering quietly "I don't want to leave you either." Then giving a delicate kiss to the cheek.

They lie in silence, until Fiala turns over on her side to face him, "I want you to live your dream, Ghira, but if that means we will have to be apart...I...I don't know if I'll be able to take it." She heaves, a whelp beginning to grow in her throat.

"I don't think I'll be able to live with it either," He starts in a hushed whisper, "When I first wanted to join Hylia's army, I never knew I'd end up with you. If I had known earlier maybe...maybe..." Ghirahim trails off, knowing what was done was done and that neither of them could change that. They were stuck here, torn between what was right and what they wanted personalty. Fighting for the goddess was the right, noble thing to do, both of them know it, but yet the pair longed to be with each other.

"T-then you must go." Fiala says as firm as she can, trying to keep her voice from cracking, "You m-must fight for Hylia, Ghirahim. Forget about me. I...I'll be f-fine." But the tears that follow say otherwise.

Drawing her near, Ghirahim tries to reassure her that everything will be okay...knowing it's a lie. Never had he thought fighting for Hylia would cause him this much emotional pain, but he couldn't tell her. If he were to tell the goddess, she will surely take him out of her army to stay in the village for another year. Although it would mean Ghirahim would be able to be with Fiala, it's not what he wants. _I want to fight,_ it's what he's been telling himself for years now, _I want to fight for the light in this world and make a difference_. Just like she did.

Praying to the old gods for guidance, Ghirahim lies there, Fiala still in his arms, imagining a beautiful world without war. A world filled with color and light where no one had to join armies or be torn away from those they loved. A place where the sun shone eternally...

It is that dreamworld Ghirahim will fight for. A faraway but clear hope that lies in the distance.

And all he had to do was run forward...

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><p><em>Author's Note: This part was short, I know. But there's a lot of heart from a little amount of words. I sorta rushed cause I'm leaving for Austin on the marrow. An all day field trip, I can't wait! I love reveiws (I see other stories have like <strong>hundreds <strong>which I have to admit makes me jealous) and would love to hear from you! Also Fave and Follow, I like that too. The next part will kick the story into full gear (I'm sure this time) in which I'll try not to rush things._

**Zelda Forever! - Vembra**


	6. Part 5

_I do NOT own the Legend of Zelda or have ANY offiliation with Nintendo. This is fan fiction and should only be taken as such._

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><p>Part 5<p>

Leaving Day

"_Run fast for your mother or fast for your father. Run for your children for your sister and brother. Leave all your loving behind, you can't carry it with you if you want to survive."_

-_Dog Days, Florence and the Machine_

The morning sun slowly peeks over the mountains surrounding the sacred village of the goddess's tribe. Those once in a deep sleep start to wake, remembering this is Hylia's leaving day.

Having woken up alone and confused before the sun came up, Ghirahim now puts on his thickest, sturdiest of hunters clothing he can find within his drawers including stretchable wool shirt and pants, chainmail and heavy leather boots, fingerless gloves and vest.

This, he hopes to himself, will be able to spare him some fire in the battlegrounds.

Upon walking out his front door, he sees other men, some older than him, walking through the streets with thick clothing and weapons slung across their backs, while their families stand out side and wave goodbye.

For years, on the goddess's departure day, Ghirahim had seen as men of many shapes and sizes walk out of their homes and into the streets with sad but determined faces. They soon all met up in one form and walked slowly through the village's streets while everyone else waved, cried and threw them flowers. Hylia appeared to them, blessed their swords and arrows, then walked along with them with her head held high toward the light of the dawn.

Some came back and some didn't. Ghirahim had watched as friends stared silently at where the sun came up, knowing they where waiting for their family member's return. And after a long years of waiting, each one came to accept it at their own time, getting wide, watery eyes every now and then.

Ghirahim clenches his eyes, knowing his time of watching everyone leave is over. Now _he _is the one leaving, and no one is here to say goodbye.

_Fiala_, he begins to walk forward, lost in thought, _where could she be?_

She must have got up and left him during the night, probably not been able to take the pain any longer. Having went home and forbidding herself to say any kind of goodbye in the morning, knowing it would kill her.

Ghirahim thinks about going over to her home but immediately stops himself. _Stop it, _his conscience commands, _you will not stay when there is a war to be fought. It's over. Fiala left you and doesn't want you. You two are no longer._

It's a lie, but it manages to pull Ghirahim to keep walking forward. The love for Fiala runs deep within him, but he tells himself to forget about that. Hylia will be there beside him the whole way and maybe that will make him forget about ever being in love. This...is okay. This will teach him not to put anything before Hylia, not even the one he loves. Hylia should always come first, dismissing this is an obvious sin.

And so, Ghirahim walks the streets to soon become a soldier, just like the many men before him. People look down at him from their places behind their windows, and while they don't throw him flowers they all nod their heads in respect, not as a goodbye but more of a good luck.

Ghirahim bows head back, knowing it's all of his fellow villagers he will soon fight for in the battle grounds. Them and Hylia.

_I'm gonna be alright, I'm gonna make it through._

Finally, he catches up to everyone else. They look over to Ghirahim, but no one says a word.

At the edge of town, past everyone who had said so long, Hylia floats her orb of golden light. When they reach her all the men bow worshipfully, all except Ghirahim.

The two stand looking at each other for a moment. Hylia's face is unreadable as she stares blankly at him. Finally, Ghirahim bows, still trying to convince himself this is the right way to go...

The blessing goes by fast, it's a short prayer over everyone here as Hylia lifts her hand above them. It suddenly strikes Ghirahim that now is the time. She turns and the men follow like a young fawn follows its mother.

Taking a breath, Ghirahim moves along with them, trying as best as he can not to look back.

The walk is long is quiet as the village disappears behind them, though Ghirahim doesn't know this because he never looks back. Thinking if he does then he's surely an emotionally weak fool who won't last the war.

The guard posts that stand right in front of the barrier come into view. _You may never see her again_, these words suddenly start to ring in Ghirahim's mind like an echo in a cave, _You may never see her again, _they ring. Something must be done- said- but his head is locked forward. He can't look back. He just can't...

_"Ghirahim!"_ In a flash of motion, Ghirahim whips around to see Fiala racing toward him. Her face is a mixture of worry, regret and... relief.

Not caring if he is a fool or not, Ghirahim takes a step and is there to catch Fiala as she jumps in his arms. Half crying, half laughing, he holds her tight and greets her with a kiss. Then, out of nowhere, Ghirahim licks her across her lips and her left cheek.

"Eh! Ghirahim!" Fiala takes a step back, wiping her wet face. Her voice isn't angry but more half-hearted confusion. "I come here all so you can lick me like a dog?" But a cheery laugh follows as she jumps back into his arms. "Your not leaving without me, Ghira."

"What?" He pulls back, wondering what she means by that.

"She's coming with us." Hylia suddenly appears next to Ghirahim and Fiala, putting a hand on his shoulder, she continues, "I may not be human but I know what love is. I knew you attending this war would tear you away from Fiala. So we made a deal." Hylia turns to Fiala to finish.

"Yes," She begins with a smile, "Early this morning Hylia said she had a special position that was open in her army-"

"Fiala, no! You can't join this army you'll-"

"Ghirahim, I said _special _position. I won't have to fight any wars with you, I'll be safe in the camps away from all the violence." Coming in close, she whispers, "We won't have to be apart now, Ghirahim. We can be together, just like you've always wanted."

It takes a moment for Ghirahim to processes it all. He _will _be with Fiala, maybe not in that dreamy, perfect world he imagined but with her all the same. "But, Fiala," He grabs hold of her hands and brings her in, "What if something...bad...happens? The world out there is unexpected. I wouldn't be able to stand it if you got hurt or taken away." Ghirahim takes a glance at Hylia, realizing how much he sounds like her.

"If something bad happens then something bad happens," She doesn't seem at all concerned, "All we can do is be careful out there. Besides, we'll both be along side the goddess. Who else is stronger than her? We'll be fine, Ghirahim."

He opens his mouth to say something, but Ghirahim can't find the right words to say. Maybe because there _is _nothing to say. "...Alright." He brings his face close to her's, "You win." Then, he gives Fiala another gentle kiss on her lips. Making sure to keep his tongue in his mouth.

Hylia stiffens, "Alright, enough you two," She half orders half teases, "We have to make it to camp before noon, or we'll be in trouble." Hylia walks back to the front of everyone, guiding them forward.

Ghirahim and Fiala share a short laugh, filled with delight in the sense that everything is turning out (well, almost) perfect.

Neither of them know this laughter and happiness will be short lived.

_Author's Note: Hello, again! Sorry for the wait, but these things take some time you know. I keep forgeting to say I'm sorry for any errors I have (My keyboard tends to lag sometimes...) if you do run into an error, however, just skip over it and it shouldn't be hard to figure out what I wrote. Anyway, thank you for reading so far! The action of this story might come a bit later then I expected, heh heh... Fave, Follow, Review (I LOVE REVEIWS!) and don't forget to check out my profile to know more about the one and only **Vembra Isles**!_

_Zelda Forever!- Vembra_


	7. Part 6

Part 6

Blessed Army

"You want a revelation, you want to get right. But that's a conversation I just can't have tonight."

_-No light, No light_

_Florence and the Machine_

Ghirahim hasn't stepped through the Great Barrier in almost twelve years, but it's as if he never has because either way he still can't remember that moment in time.

It is Fiala, soft and fragile, that gathers all her strength and takes the step forward through the barrier. It's surface ripples like that of a river, slightly glowing a soft blue as she steps over.

He watches as she looks around in awe, as if everything around her has changed, then slowly turning to him. They stand separated by the barrier, two worlds apart: protected and free. Ghirahim gives her a look, _we can still turn back._

_Don't be afraid, _her face reads. This makes him smile, knowing how he is usually the one taking all the risks while she stands back.

With a shrug, Fiala turns, whipping that beautiful black hair of her's, jogging ahead to catch up with the others.

It goes quiet as Ghirahim is left to stand there. The barrier's magic wall makes a low humming noise, almost beckoning him to come closer. _This is it, _with a hesitant breath, Ghirahim clenches his eyes tight and takes a long stride forward.

The sensation of walking through the magic barrier is brief but impacting. The holy magic forged specially by the goddess enters through Ghirahim's body and cools him like taking a big breath of icy cold air. For a moment his hearing is cut off, but in the next everything opens up. Sounds of birds and the blowing wind greet him like longtime friends. Opening his eyes, he sees all the colors of the valley, the snowy mountains ahead and the sky the beautiful color of Fiala's eyes.

For the longest time, Ghirahim has woken up everyday to the sun beaming from behind these great mountains. Only now do they strike him as great in size, making him feel small knowing he will now have hike their large, rocky faces.

"Hey, slowpoke," Fiala comes from nowhere, suddenly appearing before him and grabbing hold of his hand. "We've got to _move!_" Yanking Ghirahim forward, they both run down the valley towards the others.

The sun peeks over a crack between two mountains, shining it's bright orange-yellow light on the band of novel soldiers and their deity, Hylia.

"I'm tired." It's about the tenth time she's said these words, and still Fiala still finds the need to exclaim for everyone else to hear.

They walk wearily along a field, filled with scattered oaks and bushes, the sun shining harshly above them.

Some of the men turn their heads to stare at her, rolling their eyes in annoyance. From his place next to her, Ghirahim gives each of the men a glare. They roll their eyes and continue to walk with their faces forward.

With their hands locked together, they swing their arms to and fro like small children. "Want me to carry you?" Ghirahim suggests, not really up to the challenge but willing to show Fiala what a gentlemen he can be.

"Would you?" She gleams.

He nods, opening his arms to her.

"Your too sweet, Ghirahim." Fiala stops in her tracks and lets Ghirahim pick her up. Placing one arm under her legs and the other around her back, Ghirahim pulls her close and continues to walk.

His legs ache, but he can take a little extra weight. After a few hours of non-stop walking, Fiala, who isn't used to working on foot, was really starting to give out. Complaining between pants, the sound of her pain was getting to much. Ghirahim thanks she isn't going to work as a fighting soldier like him, otherwise she would probably just die of exhaustion of walking _to_ the battlefield. Which would really be pitiful...

"Don't worry," He hears Hylia's voice from the head of the group, "Were almost there. Look." All the way in the back, Ghirahim moves sideways to see where she points.

Straight ahead, a broad formation of huts, some big and some small, stands solidly on the shady side of a hill. From here, Ghirahim can see small figures move along the camp, weaving through the paths between hovels.

"There it is, Fiala," He whispers in a hopeful voice.

Ghirahim gets no response, turning to realize Fiala is sound asleep in his arms, eyes shut closed with her face leaned against his chest.

Giving her a light kiss on her fine lips, he looks back up at their new home. While it's meant to house fierce soldiers for a brutal war, somehow, Ghirahim can't think of any other perfect looking place to live...

As they draw near, everyone in the camp starts to gather together out front with big smiles. Hylia touches down to earth and stands before them as they all start to bow. The men behind her also get down on their knees, all except for- of course- Ghirahim. He stands there, still holding sleeping Fiala, looking at the many men and woman among the ranks. And as they lift their heads, Ghirahim smiles, recognizing some faces. Faces of those who left the village years ago with a weary expression, now looking as strong and brave as ever. Clearly having something knocked into them during their time here.

But something also catches Ghirahim's eyes. Along with the familiar faces he also sees people he doesn't recognize at all. There are many of these foreigners... Where did they come from?

"My good people," Hylia proclaims loud for everyone to hear, "I have brought new soldiers to aid us in war." Those amongst the camp search through the new group of soldiers, but many find their eyes to linger on to the pale, white-haired boy towards the back who holds a limp girl in his arms. This boy looks...different.

Ghirahim feels their curious eyes on him and turn away.

"Nevan," Hylia calls one of them out. A big, tan man with a long black beard steps forward. "Show these new recruits where they will be staying and such." All the men in Ghirahim's group step forward toward Nevan.

"Alright, newbies," Nevan teases in a deep, husky voice. "Follow me."

As everyone begins to follow, Ghirahim takes a step forward but is suddenly stopped by someone grabbing hold of his shoulder. "No, Ghirahim." It's Hylia. He turns to face her, realizing Fiala is still asleep in his arms. Giving her a awkward smile, Hylia rolls her eyes, "Wake her up already." You can the annoyance in her voice.

Ghirahim shakes Fiala, "Hey, wake up." He tells her in a whisper.

With fluttering eyes, she asks in a yawn: "W-what?"

Not having the patience to wait for Fiala to fully awaken, Hylia continues, "You two are going to stay in my quarters. As you may know, the both of you serve a great importance." -Ghirahim gently places Fiala on the ground, she shakes her head- waking herself- and looks up at the goddess- "I have people for you to both meet, especially one in particular."

"Who?" Ghirahim just has to ask.

"A knight I met a long while ago. He's very wise and strong." She talks as if she has a lot more to say about him.

"So he's your best soldier?" Fiala perks up, fully awake now.

"Oh, no..." Hylia brings her hands together in a lock, a gesture Ghirahim has long known to mean she's in deep thought. She sighs, "He's much more than that..."

Ghirahim looks at her, confused at her words. It's the way she said them, delicately like she knew had to chose the right ones to say. That's the way she's always spoken to _him_, and no one else. It's the great care in those words that he can easily recognize.

"Yes," Hylia quickly says, obviously trying to change the subject. "We better get going then, I have lots to show you two." She turns and begins to walk forward.

As they begin to follow, Fiala lifts an eyebrow at Ghirahim, looking from him to Hylia.

So she heard it too...

"...and that big fire pit over there is where we cook all are meals. There are other fire pits around camp but we use those for light at nighttime. And I after our little tour is done I expect the both of you to be at the pit for dinner. Got it?"

Usually when Hylia rambles this much and asks questions as if she were speaking to a child, it means she's nervous in some way. And although Ghirahim hates Hylia's nervous-breakdown, childish questions, he nods his head. Fiala, entirely new to the true Hylia, nods her head with hesitance and confusion.

"Good. Now here is my quarter, where the two of you will stay." They all face the hut, built solely of thick wool sheets nailed from wooden planks to the ground. It's large in size, bigger than all the other huts in the camp.

"Come now," Hylia pushes away the curtain and ducks in. The two lovers follow.

They enter a room lit by flaming candles. It's awfully large, the ground covered with expensive carpets, drawers with jewels and maps stacked on top and a single bed with it's sheets neatly placed.

"Here is where I sleep," Folding her arms across her chest, Hylia looks from Ghirahim to Fiala. "But it doesn't matter," She turns round and begins to walk toward the back of the room where the fabric of the tent is torn in an opening to another room. "I know there is much explaining to do. After that I'll show you to the room you two will share."

The next room only bears a desk, piled with maps and scrolls, but around Ghirahim notices there is no carpet and that the dirt is mismatched: a hole there and a pile of soil there.

When he thinks Hylia will take them to the table to show them something, she instead waltzes over to stand near a deep whole in the ground. "There is someone I'd like you to meet," Ghirahim opens his mouth to ask a question, confused at all of this, when the whole Hylia stands next to start to...move?

Dirt is kicked up in a small frenzy, suddenly, out of the whole comes a creature with brown fur.

Ghirahim jumps back at the sight of the thing, never have seeing anything like it in his life, "W-What?ཀ" He questions to no one in particular.

The animal, half of it's body hidden within the whole, leans backward with eyes wide open. "Whoa!" The sound of it's voice shocks Ghirahim, making his eyebrows rise high. He freezes, not knowing what else to do.

"Who are you guys?" The animal leans in, eyeing the pale boy and skinny girl that both stand before him.

Hylia makes a cough, getting the creature's attention. "Hey, Hylia. Back already?" The thing crosses it's arms and smiles up in satisfaction.

"Of course, and I've brought new recruits." She points to Ghirahim and Fiala, who still stare at the animal in awe, "This is Ghirahim and his friend, Fiala. They will both be great help to us."

"This is Ghirahim?" The animal turns to him, examining him. "Looks kinda funny to me." He chuckles.

Hylia waves that last part off, turning to the duo. "Ghirahim, Fiala: I'd like you to meet Roks, leader of the our Mogma soldiers."

"Mogma?" Ghirahim looks up at Hylia, hoping for some explanation.

She sighs, "There are more things on this planet than humans, Ghirahim. You may find it hard to believe but they fight alongside us."

"You got that right," Roks agrees with a laugh, "All of us are in this for the same reason: to stop that awful king Demise."

It goes quiet at the last word. Ghirahim looks over to Hylia, _who's Demise? _

Biting her lip, she shakes her head. "I'll explain later."

"Oh, Hylia!" Roks suddenly cries, "I have news from the dark lands." His voice grows low, almost fearful.

"Speak." Hylia commands firmly.

"One of my guys went to spy on Demise's men. He said they found their weapon...and something else."

They all leaned in close.

"Demise found someone important... a girl. Supposedly their's something special about her that Demise found useful."

"Who is she?"

"I don't know her name but she's someone important to the Sheikah."

Hylia takes a step back and winces her eyes. It's silent as she finds the words to say, "I know who she is...she's their deity. The all seeing oracle..."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: Sorry for the wait! I've been spending time with family and things like that. Hope that's okay. Soo... this part was the most difficult to right so far: New location and such. It's getting good and I really want to tell this story well. So the wait will probably be longer starting now. Sorry :( But anyway... REVEIW! Oh I love a good reveiw! They really give me determiation to keep writing. Fave and follow too! Don't be afriad to ask questions! I'll try to anser if you have any...<em>

_**Zelda Forever!** -Vembra_

_P.S: I also sorta rushed through writing the last half of this. So sorry if there are mistakes our lack of detail, I just **hate **to keep people waiting..._


	8. Part 7

Part 7

Explanations

_"Sometimes it seems the going is just too rough, and things go wrong no matter what I do. Now and then it seems like life is just too much. But you've got the love I need to see me through..."_

_-You Got the Love, Florence and the Machine_

"...So if he's _so-o _powerful, why doesn't Demise come to fight us himself?" Finally, Ghirahim knows the meaning of that dreadful name: _Demise_. Hylia, Ghirahim and Fiala sit around the cluttered table in the room filled with Mogma holes.

* * *

><p>They've been at this for almost half an hour, most of it consisting of Hylia's ample explanation of the feared king, Demise, while both Ghirahim and Fiala sunk in their seats and stared up at goddess in captivation. "He rules the dark lands toward the south," She had said with a low tone, hate stuck deep in her voice. "Demise commands millions of dreadful, murderous creatures. They all serve and bow down to him like he's some kind of god."<p>

"Why? What so special about him that they find godlike?" It was Fiala who asked the question with great intensity, obviously very intrigued with all this.

Hylia had bit her lip and thought for a moment, but the anser was very clear to her: "Because he's different; a rebel. Never has anyone tested _I _nor the laws that abide these lands. Long ago, Demise had started to go around with followers, saying how the land shouldn't be governed by that of a single being but by the citizens that inhabit it." -Hylia had let out a small chuckle under her breath. _Governed by the citizens, how preposterous! What selfishness lurks in the hearts of some_, she'd thought to herself- "They deviated behind my back. And as there group grew in number I found out the murderous hounds were planning to assassinate me."

This is when Ghirahim's eyes had widened in shock, _Is that truly how far they were willing to go? To try and murder a divine goddess? _The questions rung...

"That was when I stopped ignoring them and decided to take action. I confronted Demise and his growing army of rebels, and warned them to stop their actions or else..."

"...they didn't listen." Fiala had stated in a whisper to herself, already knowing where this story was headed.

Hylia continued, "They refused, exclaiming how the world would someday be in their hands while I and the old gods would be long forgotten." With a sigh, she had made a sheepish smile. "I thought of their innocence, convincing myself they all were confused and helpless toward me. So I spared them...but that was it. Gathering my power I turned all of Demise's followers to monsters with swollen faces, hunched backs, leathery, colored skin and a shrill voice like that of a choked bird. And for Demise, who was adored by many woman across the land for his handsome looks, I gave a skin as hard, grainy and dark as his malevolent heart. Turned his eyes red as the blood he had spilt and made his hair to a blazing fire in which he would feel it's scorching heat forever."

A picture of Demise, with hands wrapped around his head, screaming as he slowly, painfully transformed from man to monster came to Ghirahim's mind. He heard the heart wrenching howl of anguish echo in his mind over and over again. So with an uneven breath, he bit his lower lip as Hylia went on to say how she then banished all of them to the empty, harsh lands where the sand met the lava. A dark, shadowy place where the skies were clouded by black clouds of smoke from the volcanoes near by.

* * *

><p>"Because Demise is to much of a coward to come face us." Roks suddenly buds into their conversation, making Ghirahim jump in surprise. He turns to see the Mogma-whom he swears wasn't there a second ago- who folds his furry arms across his chest impatiently.<p>

"Roks is right," Hylia agrees with a short laugh, then her voice becomes serious once more, "Demise keeps to himself in his kingdom in the dark lands. But we've been wise to still keep an eye on him these years. Based on the information my spies have gathered, Demise is surely planning something horrid. He is creating a weapon of some sort, and all this time he's been in need of two missing puzzle pieces to complete it..."

"The first is a jewel bond by great magic." It appears before Ghirahim as soon as she says the words. The gem shines many colors, glowing bright like the sun on it spins slowly on an axis. "The Shiekah tribe call it the Guardian Stone. Long ago, the great gods gave it as a gift for when desperate times came." The jewel floats just before him, in arms reach. Ghirahim can feel it's power reaching out into him, feeling the magic strike his heart and flow through him like blood. "The stone, when used properly, can give great power to an average weapon- sword I should say, since that what the stone was meant for." Hylia explains smoothly, remembering every detail precisely, "The Shiekah knew of what power the stone contained and in fear of it falling to the wrong hands, they broke it in two." The jewel before Ghirahim breaks right on with her the words, dividing evenly in two halves, circling one another in slow movement, "One stayed with the Shiekah, while the other..." Hylia trails off and pauses to collect thought. After a short silence, she continues, "The other piece was sent somewhere in secret, and 'till this day, has not been found." She states firm with a smile, proud of her word choice.

The crystal turns to dust and fades away just as fast as it came. Ghirahim comes back to reality, "He's found it, hasn't he?" It's more of a statement than a question. "The Shiekah's piece I mean."

She is slow to respond, but when she does Hylia murmurs in a low, bitter tone: "Yes, he's stolen it. After all these years, he's got his hands on that piece." Hylia leans forward quickly in sudden motion, looking from Fiala to Ghirahim with sharp eyes, "While the stone may not be whole, the force in that single piece is immense. With it, Demise can use it's power to destroy us... Including me, I'm afraid. Which is why we are here: we _must _stop Demise before he figures out how to use the stone. Or we will _all _be in grave danger."

A hush comes across the room, the three at the table stare blankly into the abyss, all in their own deep state of thought. Roks mutters something under his breath then disappears into his hole, clearly having had enough of this talk: the odds staking against them.

Ghirahim feels the need to say something, but can't find the words to say. What good are his words to all of this? He knows nothing of Demise, so what good is he either way? Biting down on his bottom lip, he prays for someone to break the harsh silence.

It's not Hylia, but Fiala who does this, "The other puzzle piece?" she asks with a sudden eagerness, "First the stone, then what?"

"Oh, yes." Hylia shakes her head, as if to knock the memories back into her mind once more, "The second key to creating Demise's master weapon is... a person." She looks up at the two wide-eyed, curious faces who stare at her, urging her to continue, "They Shiekah have always called it "the Sword, the Sapphire, and the Sacrifice" the three S's that form the weapon of power. The blade, when fused with the Guardian Stone, cannot unleash it's might without a soul to be bound to... "the sacrifice"."

"Is it someone specific that must be given?" It is Ghirahim's turn to ask a question.

"That's just it," Worry begins to swell in Hylia's eyes, "The sacrifice can be anyone as long as they are committed to serving the master of the sword. There soul is ripped from them when they become bound, the results can come out any way imaginable, but no matter what the sacrifice becomes one with the sword. Just as strong and powerful so they may aid their master, wether they like it or not." After a long heave of her lungs, Hylia holds back the tears that well up behind her eyes, "This is why it's taken this long... Demise doesn't know it can be _anyone_, thinking it must be the sacrifice of the most powerful being on this earth."

Ghirahim catches his breath as his eyes shot at Hylia in worry. "I'm fine, Ghirahim," She reassures him with a half-hearted smile, "Demise knows he will die the day before he can ever make me any kind of sacrifice." The words come out in a low tone, almost sounding like a threat than a statement, "No, he fears me after what I turned him into those long years ago. Knowing I can do him much worse, Demise has been set out to get the second best."

But Ghirahim already suspects her next words. That "_someone important to the Shiekah_" that Hylia had mentioned earlier...

"They call her Astrasi, _star child_, given the gift of foresight at birth, the Shiekah have praised her like a deity for almost a hundred years now. Upon looking into the eyes of any, Astrasi can see the past, present, and future all laid out like a great map." Bringing her hands up under her chin thoughtful, Hylia continues, "Astrasi and I have a distasteful past. I used to always tell her of what danger she could be to us if she fell to the wrong hands, but she refused my offer to come live in the protective lands, thinking everything would be fine." She lets out a short, satisfied chuckle, "She was wrong of course and -if anything- her being a Demise's sacrifice will teach her not to question me. She may be an oracle, but a life of luxury has made Astrasi blind of the consequences of her _own_ actions."

"So...were doomed then." Fiala's tone should sound more depressing from her words, but it comes out sort of matter-of-factly.

"Not if we stop Demise before he binds them all together." Hylia insists in an almost hopeful voice, "Otherwise..." Chewing on her bottom lip with a sour, painful expression, Hylia says "We will be forced to take drastic measures."

He's not quite sure what she means by that, but Ghirahim has a feeling Plan B isn't a pretty one.

Out of nowhere, a head peeks from the curtain opening in the room. A woman with frizzy red hair and a scar below her cherry red lips motions to Hylia, "Your Grace, Grumose has arrived."

Standing up quickly but smoothly, Hylia claps her hands together with a grin "How lovely!" The words come out of her mouth cheerfully, as if Hylia _wasn't_ just speaking of such a thing as their doom. Fiala and Ghirahim stand up hesitantly, confused once more.

"Come you two, you must see Grumose!" It's obvious to them both that Hylia is trying to mask her sorrow with a big smile. Surprisingly, Hylia skips over to them and grabs both their hands in her's, "Come, come quicky!" She beckons and starts to drag them out of the tent.

The sun is starting to set outside, it takes a moment of Ghirahim's eyes to adjust to the light. Hylia finally lets go and jogs forward on her own, seeming to expect them to follow. Flashing Ghirahim a grin, Fiala runs ahead to catch up.

There's a lot of strange happiness around, not even the sensible kind, but he also finds a smile on his face, "Wait up!" Ghirahim calls to them both, picking up pace.

It isn't long before Ghirahim almost knocks Fiala over, suddenly stopping in her tracks. But she doesn't make a sound when he bumps into her. Tracing his fingers along her neckline, Ghirahim asks, still lost in joy: "My Fiala, what's wrong?" He's about to kiss her cheek when he looks in Hylia's direction.

And he too stands in stunned silence...

"Greeting, Grumose." Hylia stands on the tips of her toes and looks up at the one she speaks too, "How was the expedition in the West?"

In front of her stands a monster with brittle, honey brown skin and a large muscular body. It bears deep scars and strange markings across it's face and back, it's long grey hair pulled back against it's broad shoulders. And then, it speaks. "Very well, actually. We found our robotic allies in Lanayru fairing well, they continue to have full control in the region as hoped."

_Run! _Ghirahim wants to cry out, placing himself before Fiala. Can Hylia not see what stands before her?

"How wonderful," Hylia slowly turns to Ghirahim and Fiala, and can't help but laugh, "Oh, yes!" She motions them to come forth. Clutching their hands tight, the two steadily walk forward, eyes locked wide on the beady eyed monster, "Grumose, I'd like you to meet Ghirahim and his friend Fiala."

The two jump at Grumose's laugh that sounds like a deep horn, "So _this _is Ghirahim, eh?" Ghirahim shudders as the monster looks him over, "A lot paler than I thought he'd be."

Hylia turns to Ghirahim, who still stands stunned and shakes him eagerly, "Calm yourself, Ghirahim, this is Grumose, a _friend._ He's a goron, you see, and will _not _hurt you." It's the jittery, nervous, your-still-a-child tone.

With a annoyed groan, Ghirahim shakes himself off and takes a step forward to Grumose. Fiala gasps at this sudden act of bravery, as he lifts his hand up to the monster, "Nice to meet you."

Another laugh. "I like this one," Grumose exclaims, bending over a little to shake Ghirahim's hand, "You picked a nice one Hylia."

Lifting a finger below her chin, she simply replies with a radiant smile: "I know..."

Fiala wraps an arm around Ghirahim's neck and smiles up at Grumose with a small "hello", suddenly feeling courageous as well.

But it's a voice from the distance that cuts this moment in half. A far call of Hylia's name in the underbrush of the woods beside the camp. The voice is a man's from the sound of it, he calls with great eagerness in his voice.

Hylia flips her golden hair over her shoulders as she turns to the trees, her eyes big and searching. The mask fades away as Hylia's eyes lock on the figure in the distance, wearing an outfit the color of the trees.

"Link?" Picking her dress up slightly over her bare feet, Hylia sprints into the woods...

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: Hey guys! Long time, no update, huh? Well I hoped this satified for now because guess what? Your probably not gonna get another update for a while longer, cause I got <strong>exams <strong>next week! Wish me luck, but sorry, I got to focus on school for a bit :P I mean, if I want to make something out of my life I better get focused! Anyway, review, fave, follow (I 3 Reviews!) And sorry for mistakes, I tend to look over my work poorly._

**_Zelda Forever! -Vembra_**


	9. Part 8

Part 8

Here They Come

"_There is love in your body, but you can't hold it in. It pours from your eyes and it spills from your skin. The tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks and the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts..."_

_-Hardest of Hearts, Florence and the Machine_

**One week earlier, in the dark lands...**

"Astrasi, my dear, come closer." The demon king beckons from his place on his throne, his lips curling up into a twisted smile as _I_, the girl with chains around her wrists and a metal band around her head walks cautiously towards him.

The guards at the end of the hall watch unsurely as I climb the steps at the feet of their king. With a wave of his hand, he motions them away to leave himself and the oracle in private.

I don't have to see to recognize the sound of the closing hallway entry. It's the same loud slam I heard when I first came, struggling in the grip of the monsters who had taken me and the prized jewel of the Shiekah. I tried to fight- I really did- but their were to many hands that constricted me as the stone was pried from my sweaty, aching hands. It was in that last moment when I saw the dark king for myself.

With ropes wrapped tightly around my bruised body, threatening to choke the life out of me, the beasts had backed away at the order of their master. I had seen him as he stood above me, his fiery hair igniting almost as if in excitement, blazing red eyes staring down into mine. But at the time, was I too weak to gain sight of this man's life, my powers drained from trying to fight my way out of all this.

"Welcome...home." Those were the words I heard as I drew a unsteady breath, my neck chocked beneath the pile of ropes, and slowly drifted off into a dark oblivion.

But the darkness never went away, at first I thought she was merely dreaming, hearing vivid voices and feeling the touch people I couldn't see, before I realized I was very much awake. I had been blind folded...but it's not just any tight cloth that blinds my sight, it's a solid metal crown fitted to cover my eyes and circle my skull. It comes to a lock in the back, a bulge from which I can feel the indent of a keyhole.

_Give them what they want, _I had thought to myself earlier, _Do that and they will let you free. _But these words are only to give me some sort of strength, I'm not so much of a fool as to believe them.

So I stand here, listening, waiting to hear a word, to feel a touch. _Give him what he wants and you'll be fine, _more hopeless lies echo in my mind.

Something suddenly touches my chin, something hard as stone that caresses my face, "What beauty," I shudder as that familiar voice whispers longingly in my right ear. Demise breathes a bit heavily for a moment, then whispers further in that enticing tone, "Such a shame a pretty thing like you must be put through so much..." I hear the pause as he searches for the right word, "...torment."

The tone of his voice makes me very uncomfortable. I feel I must run, break the doors and get out of this hell. But of course I can't... Demise has full control, and while I have more than enough power to excruciate his mind until his ears bleed red (the only other power I have besides being able to see one's future) I simply can't do this without clear sight. I just can't pinpoint the entry to his mind without seeing into his eyes, which, really_ are _windows to the soul.

"It doesn't have to be like this," He presses on, pushing a lock of my hair behind my ear. His affectionate motions make my stomach turn. I'd rather be beaten and hated by Demise than feel...loved by him? Maybe that word's a bit strong... "I may not want you to leave... but you can live here in luxury, if you would like."

Remembering the hard ground of a cell I was tossed into last night, not being able to wrap my bound arms around myself for even the slightest warmth- I can't help but look eagerly in the direction of Demise's voice.

"The way I see it," He begins, putting an arm around my shoulder thoughtfully, "You can help me in what I need from you, living lavishly by my side in comfort and ease." I think about this: Would I really give myself to Demise for the comfort I've been aching for? The heat of his breath on my lips sends a shiver down my spine, "Or," His voice is now suddenly behind me, "You can wallow around in the cold dungeon with the rats and roaches for the rest of your life. Your choice..."

I hear his footsteps as he begins to retreat from me, leaving me with a drastic choice to make: live in solace but betraying my conscience, or living in misery but keeping whatever dignity I have left at this point. "Wait," I call out to him, wherever he is.

There is silence but I know he stands to listen. Am I _really _going to do this? "I accept your offer." I choke out the words, biting down on my lip fiercely after I do. What have I done?...

"Good," I jump at the sound of Demise's voice that comes from nowhere, hushing into my right ear. "There's just _one _small thing we need to take care of first." A feel a nudge toward the back of my head brace, hear a small _click _as the metal ring unclasps and falls to the floor with a _ring!_

Colors break in as I open my eyes, but it's the hungry red of his that instantly send the world around me spinning. I'm thrown into the obscured world of his life so quickly, I cannot reach out fast enough to grab hold on his mind to claw and torment it with my power. So with a sigh to myself, I let myself fall into the abyss. The moment where my soul clashes with that of my host, in which I absorb and analyze every moment of their past, present and future. It takes hours to see it all blur in front of me in a frenzy, but on the outside, it happens in mere seconds.

I've been through this a hundred times, but never have I seen sight of such a malicious, blood-thirsty, misunderstood soul such as this...

Things past and faces fade but something catches my eye as I see sight of the near future.

I stand by Demise's side, my hand clenched in his as we both look onward to the doors of the hallway entry. "Ghirahim," He says in that welcoming voice of his, "Welcome..." I almost expect him to say 'home' as he did with me but he doesn't.

Then I see _him. _The pale boy with hair whiter than the clearest, softest snow. His worried, sad eyes look up at us. First Demise then me. I can feel his fear even through the vision.

Ghirahim... it's the name the dark king calls him. Around Ghirahim's ankle is an invisible thread, a thin but powerful string that stretches out and around myself.

The Thread of Fate... it binds us all in one way our another. And me and this pale boy... we are _destined_ to meet.

* * *

><p>Never in his life has Ghirahim seen a creature in such horrible attire. But it is no creature he stares upon but a man, seeming only slightly older than himself, with dark blonde bangs hanging out from the long green hat he wears- matching his deep green tunic.<p>

Hylia had ran into the forest so hastily, Ghirahim just had to follow to see what the fuss was about.

"Who's..." Fiala trails off, grabbing hold of Ghirahim's shoulders from behind, deciding to tag along with him to see what's going on.

They keep their distance though, as Hylia slowly comes to a halt not far in front of them. She stares on with big, shimmery eyes, as the man in green approaches with hurry.

It grows quiet as he comes near, smiling wide. "Hylia.." He breathes, now right in front of her.

The wind dies down and the rustling of leaves grows silent as if the forest itself were listening to hear. Ghirahim narrows his eyes on this man in green. _Hylia, _it was the way he had said her name that made him uneasy. Speaking the word smoothly as if this man had known her all his life.

_All his life..._

There is a brief moment in which the two stare into each other in silence, neither knowing what to say. Until the man in green gets down on his knees and outstretches his hand toward Hylia.

Nodding to herself, she reaches out and clasps his hand in her's. The world seems to stop and stare at these two in this moment, orange sunlight peeking through the trees and gazing it's light on them both.

Ghirahim stares on blankly, not sure what to think or do. A hundred of emotions and thoughts run through his mind. There are so many swimming in the pool of his conscience , he just can't one to cling too. It all gets stuck in his head, not coming out his mouth. All Ghirahim can do is stand there with that bewildered face, his tongue twisted and numb in his mouth.

_Ghirahim, _it's a voice from afar, calling out of nowhere. _Ghirahim, _a mysterious girl says the words - someone he can't recognize. She beckons his name from the corner of his mind as he continues to stare at Hylia and the man in green, the image burning into his head. _Ghirahim... _her voice grows louder, but ever so slightly. He can feel someone's eyes upon him, they pierce Ghirahim but no one is there to look at him...

"Ghirahim!" Knocked out of reverie, he comes to find Hylia glaring at him with her arms folded across her chest. Motioning for him to walk forward, a smile suddenly crosses her annoyed face, "Come near, I would like you to meet my champion!"

So this was the one she mentioned earlier. Yet that statement let little off Ghirahim's heavy chest...

Making sure to hold Fiala's hand tightly, Ghirahim captiously walked forward, trying to keep his eyes away from the man who stood by Hylia's side.

The moment they all face each other, Hylia immediately makes it her business to introduce everyone: "Link, I would like you to meet my assistants Ghirahim and Fiala." She motions to them, gleefully, then turns the tables and gestures to the man in green. Grinning at Ghirahim and Fiala, she continues, "Ghirahim, Fiala... I would like you to meet Link, my_ champion_." That last word rolls off her tongue and drops to the floor. The word, at least to Ghirahim, doesn't impress him one bit- doesn't change his mind about anything.

"Ghirahim? Hylia has told me much about you." For a second time-Link holds out his hand- this time to Ghirahim who still can't make up his mind to trust him or not.

Aware of Fiala's prying eyes reeling him to be polite, Ghirahim fakes a smile and shakes Link's hand. "And your Hylia's champion? How so?" He asks the question mostly to distract himself from the thoughts that claw at Ghirahim's mind. Dark, angry thoughts.

The question comes suddenly, knocking Link off guard as he pauses to recall thought of past events. "I've fought alongside Hylia for more than a year now, and well..."

"He's won more battles than I can count," Obviously not one for words, Link allows Hylia to take over the explaining, "Link was born to fight, and fight he has. With his help, we've been able to claim masses of land back from Demise's hand. If it wasn't for him," For a slight moment, Hylia turns to gaze into Link's deep blue eyes. It's too brief for Ghirahim to pick up, but there is something there between them. A pull much stronger than two battle partners or even friends. And as fast as it came, the pull retreats as Hylia continues, "...We probably wouldn't be here now."

Fiala let's go of the urge to keep quite, "That's amazing," Seeing the look on Link's face, she brushes her hair behind her ear nervously and holds out her other hand. "I'm Fiala, by the way."

"Pleasure," Link takes her hand and bends down to lightly kiss her knuckles. It's only a polite gesture, but Ghirahim can't help it as the pool of thought and feelings burst and pour from his ears in a waterfall. Only one emotion sticks while the others drip to the ground.

It's it now clear: Ghirahim completely, utterly, hates this man named Link. The statement is plain and simple, yet powerful enough to make Ghirahim's fists clench and hairs stand.

"Come, Fiala." He tells her in a plain tone, grabbing hold of her hand and yanking the both of them away from Hylia and Link. Without a single word or glance backward, the two move silently in the opposite direction back to camp.

* * *

><p>Two full minutes later, after being showed their room to sleep, Ghirahim and Fiala sit side by side on the edge of their bed meant for one person. The still silence sticks in the air awkwardly. So thick, it threatens to choke them both.<p>

"You're jealous," Fiala breaks the hush of the room, turning to her lover with gleaming eyes that search into his. There is no lying to eyes that swirl and entrance you, instead they make you want to spill every lie and secret you've kept in your life until you've no sins left to tell.

With a sigh, Ghirahim takes her face in his hands and caresses her soft cheeks. "I just don't like him, that's all."

"Don't like him? Ghirahim, he's a blessing to have around. Link has done nothing wrong to you in this short time, why do you detest him so suddenly?"

"I...It's..." The words stick to his tongue and show on his face that _the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste._

"You're jealous," She says again, more matter-of-factly this time.

Not knowing what to say to this, Ghirahim leans in and kisses Fiala's fine lips. A kiss so sudden and intense, it surprises them both. But it's to late to let go, because both of them are in too deep to resurface.

And what happens when your in too deep in love? It's simple: you drown. This is what happens now between these two, now. As skin touches and fingers lace, both of them slowly start to drown in it all. They creep deeper and deeper into each other until their very souls-for a moment- clash and ignite.

They continue to submerge as the sun starts to set in the horizon, but neither care of the world beyond...for the time being.

I find it foolish and quite tragic, in away. Because, if you don't mind me telling, these lovers surely won't make it until morning...

"I thought I told those two to be here on time." Hylia mummers to herself. She sits at a table around the cooking fire, Link by her side. "First, they leave in a sudden. Now they can't even make it for dinner?"

"Don't speak so soon, Hylia. Look." Link points to the figures walking out of the tent, holding hands and smiling wide. Whispering and teasing one another playfully.

The goddess is over to them in a flash, "It's about time, we were about to start without you." After speaking in that impatient tone, Hylia turns and leads them the fire, tables of food and drinks around.

They all make their choice of food in silence with all the other residents of the camp to accompany.

It's not near as cheerful as the celebration back at the village, here everyone speaks in a hushed tone and chews at their rubbery meat and sipping their tangy beverages. War is on everyone's mind, it haunts in the corner of their minds dreadfully. Coming up to remind them of why they all are truly here for.

"Such a lifeless dinner." Ghirahim whispers to Fiala after they sit down in front of Link and Hylia.

She turns, cuffing her hand over her lips and whispers into his ear: "Then maybe we should give it life." Fiala meant to dance of course, her specialty besides strumming an instrument.

Ghirahim isn't much of a dancer, but he will do it if it was Fiala who asks him too. They had danced once, long ago, and her perfect ballet is what blinded everyone from Ghirahim's usually awkward movement.

But first they have to get through the feast which is overcooked meat of some sort and a sad attempt at grape wine. Fiala doesn't like wine to begin with and now Ghirahim think he does also after a taste of the camp's horrible rendition. But Hylia doesn't seem to mind. She chugs the stuff between side talk with Link.

Ghirahim is no longer angry, but he can't help but feel something when he looks at the hero in green...something that moves uneasily inside him, wanting to make him throw up to get it out.

* * *

><p>A complete hour pasts when a few people of the camp start to gather instruments of sorts and play by the fire.<p>

Fiala practically jumps from her seat and grabs Ghirahim by his shirt collar, "C'mon, let's dance!" He follows without a word toward to fire.

Every one looks to stare at the duo, making Ghirahim almost regret letting Fiala drag him up here.

But the regret soon melts away the moment Fiala begins to dance. The wind and drum instruments play in a lively tune in the beginning, and with it Fiala moves herself around Ghirahim, moving her feet with the music.

He doesn't have to do much but hold onto her, Fiala does the rest. Lacing her feet in and out in beautiful movement, the music greeting her dance nicely.

This was the reason Ghirahim fell in love with her...

The music slows at one point, in which she draws in and twirls in his arms romantically. Teasing with the close touch of skin and lips.

But the song ends sooner then they could keep time. That's when everyone begins to stand and clap for the two, cheering.

It's this last moment that is precious and will stick for a very long time with the both of them. As they draw near each other, pressing their faces close while laughing in great joy. Completely in love.

But then the moment ends... It ends at a sharp sudden when something from the dark of the woods shots forth. A flaming arrow that flies and slices the moment in half, pierces the wood of the tent, causing a hush among the camp.

Everyone is afraid to look to the forest, knowing of what lies there.

But it's Hylia that stands straight up in her seat, and at the top at the top of her lungs, screams "RUN!"

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><p><em>Author's Note: Woah, talk about a big part! I wrote this in a frenzy while listening to Florence and the Machine so you can thank them for giving you this so early. The Hardest of Hearts really sets the mood for for most of this part, I really recommend you listen to it! But anyway, I've got to go. Leave a review! Fave, follow... I love my fans and will respond to any questions! LOVE U GUYS!<em>

_Zelda Forever!- Vembra_

_P.S My tests went well, I really wish I did good on my math. It was a bit difficult..._


	10. Part 9

_Author's Note: Hello! I'm still alive! Okay, some things I need to say. First, I've been really busy lately. Which is why I took so long on this part, but it came out good. I'm committed to writing a dystopian novel, this fan fiction, keeping up with my Deviant Art followers, and starting some side stories. Life is hectic. Oh, look at me ramble! I'll finish after, but right now it's story time!_

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><p><strong>Part 9<strong>

**The Spark**

"_And every demon wants his pound of flesh, but I like to keep some things to myself..."_

-_Shake It Out, Florence and the Machine_

There is a strange, sudden burning sensation along my back. It comes out of nowhere, startling me as the spot just below my neck ignites in heat. But the warmth doesn't seem to be effecting me from the outside- but the _inside _of my skin, between my soft flesh and raw tissue.

I breathe slowly as the heat swoops down along my spine, turning sharply over my hips then rising quickly over my stomach and chest.

Making sure to keep quiet, I let the warmth silently engulf my face. That's the moment where I feel the burning penetrate my skull and enter my very brain.

For one second, I'm staring uneasily at my plate of untouched food. Then colors: orange, yellow and red, flash in my vision. They swirl and twist, making me light headed, as if my mind is on fire.

That's when I hear his voice. It's broken and desperate, calling out for no one in particular.

I'm slowly, steadily pushed out of reality into a foggy dreamworld where_ he_ lies curled on the hard ground, mysterious flames closing in around his body.

I expect someone to come to his aid, anyone. I wait uncertainly for some sort of hero to jump through the blaze to the pale boy's care... but no one comes, the boy tied to my thread of fate just continues to cry out in desperation.

"Help me!" Why is he calling if no one is here to help him? Then I think: _I'm_ here. Could he be calling for me? He can't be. This isn't even real. Even if it is, why would a boy, who has never known or even seen me, be calling for me in the most desperate manner?

_Because I need you..._ The pale boy cedes his screams all of a sudden, as if reading my thoughts, in which he finally opens those eyes to gaze into mine.

They are dark, black almost. It's the eye color that beasts and those of dark descent bare. Yet... while deep and dark, they strike me as both innocent and beautiful. His brows come together, examining me. Like he's wondering whether he wants me to save him still. The look of uncertainty.

But as the flames come closer and closer to his pale skin, he just continues to stare at me in doubt. _Help me... _I hear his words ring very steadily now, but there's a faint edge in his voice that arouses something deep inside of me.

I realize I must save him from the fires. I _must_.

But when I make a move toward him, something grabs me by the waist and pulls me backwards. Away from my boy.

"No!" I can't get out of this invisible grip, watching in horror as the fire is practically licking at the pale boy. "Nooo!" I cry out, reaching my arm outward as if I could somehow get a hold of him.

A feel a tear stream down my cheek as I watch the blaze begin to engulf the pale boy, the sound of singing flesh making me want to turn away.

The pale boy, with most of his skin blackened and peeling now, looks up at me with those eyes unmoved... _I need you._

I open my mouth to reassure him,to say I'll save him, but my lips are covered before I can speak a word. The colors fade away and I'm faced back to the table I sit on.

My food is still untouched and Demise is still sitting at the head of the table. I don't ask him a thing or speak a single syllable. I just quietly reach behind my neck, feeling the cool of my sweat and the lingering of an unmistakable heat...

The moments after the flaming arrow stretch and blur. But they tick by fiercely, bringing utter hell as they do.

First and foremost, Ghirahim acknowledges the distinct cry of Hylia, screaming for everyone to run. When the words leave her lips, it's as if it's the correct signal and in moments, people are screaming savagely as a wave of flaming arrows shoots forth from the woods. They strike in all directions of the camp, igniting tents and people alike in flames.

Ghirahim stands alone, mystified at the figures blurring past and the streaks of orange and yellow that begin to grow and swirl. Time seems to slow to a crawl as dark figures from the forest begin to emerge. Their faces smeared and indistinct.

Then, suddenly, someone is pulling him backwards by the arm. Tugging him fiercely as they shout phrases. It's only when Ghirahim turns to look that everything comes in clearly and violently. "Ghirahim, what are you doing? We have to get out of here! Hurry!" Fiala's cries knock him back to reality, her eyes swirling rapidly in absolute fear.

Without a single word, Ghirahim follows, still stuck waist-deep in that traumatic daze.

Fiala lets go of his arm, expecting him to follow quickly behind. Ghirahim tries to keep up, but the sight of the faces of the dead or dying distract him. Silhouettes of figures fighting to the death on the backdrop of the blazing fire etch into his vision. Desperate cries and aggravated shouts ring around like haunting bells.

_Haunting bells..._

The tents disappear and form into trees, most set to fire. They are very tall in size, towing over Ghirahim. But their tops burn orange in flames, crackling and letting off a heat that makes him gasp and sweat heavily.

"_Faster!_" It's an unfamiliar voice, that of a woman who calls out intensively to him. Turning, Ghirahim sees a tall, slender figure running behind him. She's cloaked and her face is unclear, but Ghirahim recognizes who she is almost instantly.

The woman is his mother. His_ real _one. And with that realization comes remembering what's to happen next.

Sure enough, a tree beside them lets out a low groan then topples over, landing right between them. The woman gasps, backing away at the fiery tree that blocks her path. From the light of the flames, Ghirahim can now see her face under the hood of her cloak. She is very young looking, her face, pale as his, is completely flawless besides the markings of ash along her jaw and cheeks. With long locks of white hair peeking from her hood.

Her big, dark eyes twinkle from the light of the flames, gazing into Ghirahim uneasily. Frowning in despair, she lets out a long, unsteady breath. "_Run, Ghirahim._" Her voice is cracked and anguished, only loud enough to where Ghirahim can scarcely hear her from his side of the crackling fire.

A far howl of an animal makes both of them turn. It comes from behind his mother, letting out another violent roar as it draws nearer and nearer.

"_RUN_!" She turns and screams at him so angrily and fiercely it knocks Ghirahim back a step. The shadow of the beast in the distance appears and his mother is only left to stand there, staring blankly at him, refusing to turn around.

With tears in his eyes, Ghirahim follows her order and sprints away in the opposite direction. The flames cackle as if to taunt him as the cries of his dying mother and roar of the monster echo among the burning woods.

It's ironic of how one thing ties to another at different points in life. But a sad shame when those points are the smiling faces of doom come to haunt you.

Ghirahim is knocked back to reality from the sudden sharp pain that comes from his side. Sensitive nerves erupt and the anguish quickly immerses into every part of him, pulsing through his veins as blood leaks from the deep wound right above his hip.

Falling hard onto the ground, the world around only gets even more obscured as faces and voices cross over while the undeniable flames grow and grow, filling every last empty, alive space between.

While he may be unaware, Ghirahim's mind is heavily at work, pulsing pain signals from his left side where blood from an deep arrow puncture pours out. It overwhelms his brain: the pain, the heat. Sending him spiraling into shock.

_Let me die._ The heat around only intensifies as a bead of sweat drips down his forehead. _Let me lie here and die._ It's his mind, drowning in shock, that makes him think these dreadful thoughts. It then occurs to him at how peaceful this is... lying on the soft ground basking in the calming warmth of the fires around.

Staring blankly, silently, at the space in front of him, Ghirahim waits to die. Then something appears, a mess of colors other than orange and yellow, coming from right in front of him.

The colors mesh together into a solid form, a figure. Dark and shadowed from the flames behind. The silhouette just stands there, still and silent. Is it an enemy? No, they would have ended him by now.

_Get up, Ghirahim. _It's the same female voice from before. The mysterious one that came up in his head earlier. _Get up or Die. _But the girl makes no move to help as Ghirahim tries to sit up, immediately falling at the sharp pain in his side. In a motion of frustration, he leans over and rips the arrow out of his flesh, cringing as more blood spills like a small waterfall. "Help me." The words come out accidently, instinctively, between gritted teeth.

Looking up at the girl, Ghirahim watches as she looks down at him unsurely. As if deciding to be the good guy or the bad guy.

But she comes, drawing near him as if it pains her. The girl hovers for a moment, wondering whether she should just turn back around and leave him.

Leaning down, her face comes inches away from Ghirahim's. The motion of being so close to this girl sends a shiver along his spine. She stays for a moment and Ghirahim half expects her to kiss him, her warm, welcoming breath coming along his lips.

But she doesn't. Gripping an arm around his shoulder, the girl helps Ghirahim in a short struggle of lifting him up. But his weight makes the girl's sharp nails dig into the flesh of his arms, making him wince.

When Ghirahim finally gets on the right foot, he turns around, "Than-" But the girl is gone, out of sight. Not a trace left behind. Not in this direction or that. Completely disappeared.

If it wasn't for the shock still pulsing through him, maybe Ghirahim would have thought it over a little more. Instead, he brushes the very thought of the girl completely out of his mind, telling himself it doesn't matter anyway. With a foggy mind, he tries his best to compose himself, shaking his head to try and rid the blurred scenery around.

Ghirahim's eyes then begin to focus on a central point in the distance. A figure cloaked in dizzying shades of blue and purple. He can scarcely see her lips moving. Shouting something. To him? Her lips move in fierce motions, yet Fiala stands plated in place. Making no attempt to run toward Ghirahim.

Then, two other smudges of color appear. One green and the other a mix of white and a light yellow. Link holds the reins of a panicked horse carrying many different items and sacks strapped around the neck and waist. His eyes are sharp as he says something sternly to Hylia, as if he were ordering her to do something.

That's when Fiala finally takes flight in Ghirahim's direction, screaming at him of what the hell he's doing and to move already. But before she can get far, Hylia catches her by the shoulder and yanks back. Strict and harsh words are exchanged between the two, but only one of them actually wants to help Ghirahim.

"We _must_ leave!" Yes, it is Hylia who yells out the words with a sharp tongue, pulling Fiala by both shoulders toward Link and the horse. Fiala struggles violently in the goddess's tight grip, as if her very life depends on her escaping. "No! No-o!" Fiala screams in a mad frenzy, kicking and shaking her head furiously.

Ghirahim's mind is throbbing in shock and numbness, but when things finally piece together, he's literally stumbling along the dead bodies and burning tents. A singular thought comes up over and over again, solitary among the rest: _Before it's too late._ _Before it's too late._

Before what's to late? Hylia doesn't dare look him in the eye as she continues to drag his dearest lover away. _What the hell is she doing? _Is she...leaving him? No, it can't be. Hylia would never... yet, as she gives up and hands Fiala to Link to handle, the reflection of the flames burning across her eyes almost makes Hylia seem- somewhat- malevolent.

Wait... Link? Link!

"Let her GO!" Now everything comes clear as Link folds his arms across Fiala and draws her steadily to the horse Hylia now sits upon. "Get your hands off of her!" It's complete, utter rage that pours from Ghirahim's lips as he now sprints toward them furiously. Ready to tackle Link and beat him to the ground if necessary.

All of them turn in his direction but it's only Fiala who says something, "Ghirahim!" But her words ring more fearful than thankful for his coming. Both of her eyes swirl in torrents as she screams at the top of her lungs: "LOOK OUT!"

Something hard suddenly impacts Ghirahim from behind, knocking him flat on his chest once again. It feels like someone had just whacked him in the back with a tree branch or something. "Here he is." An otherworldly voice, deep and monestrous, speaks right above Ghirahim. Then a great force is upon his back, restraining him from turning over or even moving his head around to see who stands above him.

"Turn him over," Another voice, a little less profound but still beastly, chimes in with the first, making Ghirahim wonder how many stand above him. "I want to see his _face_." There is a rough- almost- sadistic sounding edge in this man's voice. The pressure on his back is lifted but then a pain comes as someone kicks Ghirahim over.

There are two figures only. When Ghirahim's vision comes to grip, it's the first, larger figure that strikes him in shock. The first voice, he presumes, must have come from this_ monster_.

Under the dim light of the fires, Ghirahim sees the creature's deformed, animal-like features. Half of his face is a scaly red, bloated and throbbing, with his right eye big and bright yellow and the other a more human looking green. His thick bare chest is scarred and marked with large, misplaced patches of the red skin.

_Gathering my power I turned all of Demise's followers to monsters with swollen faces, hunched backs, leathery, colored skin... _Hylia's words come to Ghirahim's mind all of a sudden. So... this was what she was talking about. Before him, he realizes, stands one of many of Demise's manipulated followers, transformed by Hylia's power long ago.

It's the other, slimmer looking figure that leans down and grabs Ghirahim by the shirt collar, lifting him up on his knees until they are face-to-face. The man... is_ human_. "Yes, he is the one." His eyes are as black as the night, the same color of his hair spiking up around his ears and flattening towards the front. Intricate tattoos cover his face. Dark lines curling around the jaw and around his eyes, making him look fierce and angry.

Ghirahim is stuck crouching there as the man, not looking much older than himself, gets a grip around his neck and sneers.

"Then lets take him, already." The creature beside them growls irately.

"Hush, I know what I'm doing." That's when the man pulls Ghirahim on both feet and turns him around, gripping him around the shoulders to keep him from running. "Oh, Hylia!" He calls out in a happy, sarcastic tone to the goddess in the distance. "Look who we've got!"

As the cool of a metal blade comes and traces along Ghirahim's neck, Hylia turns her head slowly around toward their direction. Angst fills her eyes as she only grips the horse reins tighter, biting down on her bottom lip.

"Leave HIM!" Fiala is still locked in Link's grip as she continues to fight her way out. The goddess's champion looks on worriedly but knows he can't do anything without letting Fiala loose to run to her doom.

"Now what are you going to do, eh Hylia?" The man with the blade laughs, beginning to mess with Ghirahim's hair with his free hand. "You can't do anything, now." He then grabs hold of Ghirahim's left ear and says with a menacing chuckle "Except watch me tear your son's ear off!" He does it quicker than Ghirahim can prepare for, driving the blade through the sensitive skin with quick motion. But the man takes his time cutting through as Ghirahim howls in pain, struggling in the man's tight grip.

What's going on? What had he done to deserve this? Then it strikes him: they were using him as bait. And Hylia was the sad, unsuspecting trout only wanting the best for her dearest son.

But something was wrong. Instead of running into the trap or even making any slight attempt to free Ghirahim, Hylia only sits there upon the back of the horse staring blankly into the abyss of flames.

At first, this gesture made Ghirahim infuriated. For years the goddess had went on about how she'd never let anything happen to him, how she would have died before something did. And yet here she is, clearly ignoring the cries of agony coming from Ghirahim's mouth, as if he isn't here at all.

The horse shifts it's weight as Link heaves himself and Fiala on top, holding one arm around so she can't break free. Hylia sits up front, giving one last pain filled glance toward her son screaming in hurt, then snaps the buck's reins to move him forward in the opposite direction.

The animal jerks it's front legs, adjusting to all the weight upon it's back, then flies off into a thick cloud of smog.

And like that, they are gone. Out of sight. Ghirahim's last and only hope...gone.

"She's gone. Let's leave already." The monestrous soldier mutters as the other drops Ghirahim to the ground on his knees.

Something warm runs down the left side of his neck, oozing along his collarbone and in the fabric of his shirt. Ghirahim slides his fingers along his neck with shaking fingers, feeling the liquid as he slowly picks them up toward his cut ear. But the sharp, elfin point of his ear is gone, leaving only a sharply cut stub left. "Demise will be _very_ happy." Ghirahim only has time to gag as a club strikes his head.

The flames, bright and beautiful, slowly fade to blackness.

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><p><em>Author's Note Cont.: I hope this satisfied for now, because I have LOTS of work to do. I'm sorry, I love you guys but life is life! I'll try my best to update as soon as I can. :) As always, fave, follow and leave a review! Reveiws keep me going! And ask questions, too, if you'd like! And please forgive my spelling mistakes... ;P<em>

_**Zelda Forever!** __- Vembra_


	11. Part 10

_Please Remember I DON'T own Zelda! Or have any offiliation with Nintendo World Company._

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

**Something I Can Never Have**

_"There's a drumming noise inside my head that starts when your around. I swear that you can hear it, it makes such an almighty sound..." _

_-Drumming Song, Florence and the Machine_

Nights are restless here in the dark lands.

My bed is lined with a soft, silky red cloth that I wrap around my cold self. Truthfully, I'm more comfortable then I've ever been in my life, but so lost and confused I can't help but hate it here.

First, these thoughts that surround Demise conflict at me. I'm not sure what to feel towards him. At first, I was afraid and completely despised him with all my heart. How long has it been? Weeks? It feels like years that I've stayed here in the darkness and shadow. Now, I'm not saying I _care _for him but my view towards Demise has certainly shifted in a short period of time. I noticed this right after I lived through his vision, seeing every aspect of his entire life perfectly, for some reason I just couldn't find it to bring myself to hurt him as much as I had once wanted.

He's surely not _kind, _just not as savage as I had thought he'd be. Demise has been acting pleasant towards me, but I see behind closed doors that he doesn't do the same to those who guard this broken castle. It's obvious he treats me better becausehe bares a strong liking for me. I've thought if I looked as old as I truly am, would he be so nice as he is now? No, of course. I know Demise only prefers me because of my looks, young and alive.

I'm wondering if my heart has lost it's immunity to the bitter darkness, but instead has learned to accept and soak in it. It's the best conclusion I have for all the emotions clashing in my mind all at once, telling me to be happy with all of this but also ordering me to get up and run already.

The blackness of the room suddenly strikes me as frightening, my imagination sparking all sorts of creatures all around, writhing and snarling in the darkness.

Hurriedly, I sit up and open the shudders of the window beside my bed with shaking fingers. The light of the full moon immediately shoots across the floor and walls, shooing the shadow beasts of my imagination away.

I realize how heavy my breathing is, my lungs heaving out and in as the swift beat of my heart drums in my ears. _I don't belong here._ I think to myself, looking up at the beautiful moon behind the prison-like bars in the window, _This place is for the dark and the damned. I don't belong here._

I _don't_ belong here. I... want to go home. I want to leave. I want to go home.

Homesickness strikes me sharply. I feel cool tears streaming down my cheeks as memories bubble up in my mind. Quiet, beautiful memories of when I lived in the Sheikah tribe. I was once happy. This is not happiness, this is torture_. I must go home._

There is one last thought in my mind, it wiggles and squirms in the back of my head like a conflicted earth worm. But as small and undefined as that thought is, it almost outshines all the others completely as much as I've tried to ignore it.

The pale boy. He's haunted my mind and dreams for the past nights, looking at me with those beautiful, dark eyes, not speaking a single word. Sometimes he calls out for me, desperate and in pain. But in all of those times I can never reach him. My legs stay frozen, something pulls him out of my reach, someone pulls _me_ away from him, or he just vanishes to dust before I can lay a finger on him.

_Ghirahim. Ghirahim. Ghirahim. _It's all I ever think about.

I take the visions as a sign that, even when I do finally meet him in person, I'll never be able to reach him. Maybe we're polar opposites and aren't meant to be friends, or I will do something so drastic it will leave us apart. But even in those foggy visions and dreams I have, waking up drenched in sweat and aching in multiple places, I can never let go of the strong, undeniable pull I have towards him.

_Do you dream of me, Ghirahim? _I don't mean to think it but I do. First, I shake my head at how dumb of a thought this is, but then I take it into consideration. _Can_ he? _Does_ he? If he does, then of what about me? Does he see me as I see him, coiled and calling his name in desperation? Or something else...?

_I'm waiting for you, pale boy. _The truth is, I can't wait any longer to finally see Ghirahim in person. But, then again, why? There is no logical, sane reason for this, but it is what it is. I may not have ever seen, heard, or even been able to reach for Ghirahim but my feeling are very deep and heavy toward him._ For him..._ Telling my stupid mind to shut up, I recline back on the soft, feather filled pillow and stare up at the moon glimmering in the night sky.

Again, my thoughts trace back to the pale boy. I wonder where he is at this moment. Near? Far? Then I imagine him, his face gleaming up at the same moon I gaze up at now. If he _is_, I realize, we are connected in a way. It's a mental, psychological connection. Invisible and inaudible, but just like the red thread of fate, it's there. Him and I are bound in more ways than one...

I feel my eyelids begin to grow heavy and I open my mouth and yawn. Almost content in where I lie, I allow myself to slowly drift into the darkness. Not frightening but subtle and almost sweet as I'm wrapped in it's warm embrace...

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><p>Ghirahim stands somewhere dark and murky. It's nowhere in particular, in fact it's probably <em>is<em> nowhere if you want to put it that way. The dull space between space and time, life and death, thought and reality. The hushed and insane interstice that serves as the psychological borderline to every contrast and polar opposite ever in the history and present of humankind. Love and hate. Black and white. Good and evil.

But he is not alone. At first, he wonders if it's his eyes playing tricks but he realizes the smudge of blue and violet in the distance is no illusion.

"Fiala!" There is no pain or clear memory of what was that occurs to Ghirahim as he sprints forward, only knowing the distinct feel of strong longing as it engulfs every last inch him.

As he approaches and continues to call her name, he notices Fiala doesn't respond or even turn around to look at him. Keeping completely still as the strange, long blue and purple cloth hiding her arms moves silently with the wind that comes from nowhere.

Then, the sight of her hair slows him down a bit. It's not a glossy black like he'd expected, but... brown?

Ghirahim almost completely stops in his tracks, but keeps moving forward ever so slightly with slow, unsure steps. Then, when he's at her back, he almost wants to turn around seeing Fiala's unnatural chestnut brown locks suddenly swooping down to the middle of her back. "F-Fiala?" He stammers, afraid to see the face of the girl who stands in front of him.

"That's right," It's not Fiala, the girl's voice is low and less cheery. But her voice is familiar. It's when she whips around that Ghirahim realizes who this girl is.

He gasps, taking a step back. "_You?_" The memory of it all: the fire, the goddess, the two monsters, Fiala, Link, the blade to his ear- it collapses in his mind like a crumbling building, sending his mind spiraling in remembrance of so much pain.

This girl, the one he had seen wearing a cloak in the fire, who helped him up to his feet, smiles up at him deviously, a glint of wickedness glimmering in her eyes "_I'm_ your girlfriend now!" Back at camp, Ghirahim wasn't able to get a clear view of this girl from the shadows of the flames and the hood she had worn over her head. Now, he sees, she appears the polar opposite of what Fiala looks like.

The girl's features are sharp and dangerous, her thin lips pursed up in a twisted smile as she gazes up at him with eyes red as fresh blood. She makes a laugh, stepping forward and bringing her face up to Ghirahim's, pecking his cheek with a childish "M-wah!" as she presses her face to his.

"Eh!" Ghirahim moves backwards, completely taken by surprise.

But the girl moves away, beginning to dance around him in a circle as she laughs and sings something about the stars and the moon.

"_The stars, the moon,_

_They have all been blown out!_

_You've left me in the dark._

_No dawn, no day_

_I'm always in this twilight!_

_In the shadow of your heart."_

The girl's voice completely shocks Ghirahim. It sounds exactly like Fiala's...

"Who are you?" He asks aloud, wanting desperately to know the anser.

She stops spinning, singing and looks up at him with big, innocent eyes. "Who am I?" The girl lifts her hand up over her face and giggles, "I'm Fi." Dropping her hands to her side, she cracks a smile Ghirahim gasps in shock.

It's Fiala, her shimmery blue eyes gazing up at him. There is only one thing that reminds Ghirahim this is only trickery of the mysterious girl: She got her hair wrong, a bright electric blue instead of black. But other than that mistake, the girl could easily pass for his dearest lover any day. "Missed me, eh, cutie?" It's a flawless mimicry of Fiala's voice, every last bit until Ghirahim almost wants to believe it's really her.

Winking flirtatiously, the girl pretending to be his girl begins to dance once more , but this time in the ballet style Fiala always used to do. "I'm a pretty bluebird! Watch me dance and fly perfectly!" And she does, the girl weaves her feet and spins magnificently. Ghirahim watches her in awe, but shakes his head realizing this is just the weird girl trying to fool him.

She presses on, this time with Fiala's beautiful notes.

"_A falling star fell from your heart_

_and landed in my eyes._

_I screamed aloud as it tore through them_

_and now it's left me blind..."_

Fiala sings in a voice that makes Ghirahim want to fall to his knees. But then, once more, he remembers the girl hidden beneath those bright blue eyes and freezes. "Shut up, imposter."

These words make the girl stop dead in her attempt, turning and tilting her head sideways like a small, confused child. "Huh?" She asks with those fake blue eyes, swirling like whirlpools.

"She doesn't have blue hair," Ghirahim starts, "And her name's not Fi, either." He states firmly.

"Oh, _really_?" The nameless girl smirks, lifting a finger under her chin thoughtfully. "You think so? And here I was, thinking you were an idiot." Something strange begins to happen to her. First, the blue and violet sleeves hanging around her arms slowly start to fade into dust. Revealing bare skin as her clothing slowly begins to disappear completely.

But before Ghirahim can get sight of anything, another fabric, thick and brown, replaces the empty spaces from head to toe. It's the brown robe she was wearing back at the camp.

Waving a hand over her face, the girl's true face appears, blue hair transforming to long brown locks hanging down and blowing gently around her head. "No, your right, I'm not that pretty little songbird you love so much." The girl's brows come together as she smiles wide and wickedly, staring up at him with those thirsty red eyes. "Call me Jovi..." She laughs between gritted teeth.

_Her name... it sounds familiar..._ "What do you want from me?"

"Oh, nothing. Your just in my dept since I _did_ save you after all."

"Save me? You did nothing!" Ghirahim argues, nearly laughing. "You merely helped me up! I could have down that all my own."

Jovi flies over, creeping up right next to him until they're faces are inches apart. "Could you have, now? That's not how I see it..." She breathes, slowly, steadily, beginning to trace her fingers up his chest. Ghirahim feels he should stop her, but stands frozen against to her warm body.

When she reaches the collar of his shirt, she pulls the cloth back over his left shoulder all of a sudden. "What are you-?" But Ghirahim sees what she was looking for.

A handful of small red scratch marks line his left shoulder and the side of his neck. This is when he remembers what happened when Jovi was helping him back at the burning camp, how she unintentionally dug her nails in his skin as she pulled him up off the ground.

"I'm sorry." Her voice is a hushed, sorrowful whisper. Sounding honestly sad and authentic enough for him to believe.

But before Ghirahim has a chance to forgive her, she does the unpredictable. Jovi leans in close to his shoulder and sticks out her tongue to his skin. He tries to jerk back but she grips him in place, sliding her long, serpentine tongue along his shoulder and the side of his neck.

Ghirahim only stands there, stunned and wide-eyed as Jovi slowly pulls back, reclining her head as she licks her fingers in satisfaction. "Mmm... There?" She gestures to his shoulder still wet from her saliva.

About to scream at her in anger, he first glances at his shoulder and cocks an eye brow as he finds the flesh clean and healed completely. Not a scratch left behind. "All better!" Jovi laughs with a twirl.

"But... How did... I thought..." He stumbles as so many thoughts bombard his mind at once.

Jovi lifts a finger over his lips and hushes him quiet. "No need to thank me, but a kiss would be generous!" Ghirahim can't move fast enough before Jovi jumps up and places her lips on his, they linger for a moment before he pushes her away.

"What the hell?" He shouts, balling his fists in anger. His mind goes to Fiala and suddenly he feels terribly guilty for having let this happen. For that kiss, although it really wasn't his fault.

"What? You don't like me, pale boy?" Jovi doesn't seem hurt in the least bit, but even more cheerful than before. "Your never gonna see that girl again, you know. Might as well get over her-"

"SHUT UP!" Rage fills Ghirahim's voice. Maybe knowing Jovi might be right... "You shut the hell up and leave me alone." He calms down a little, breathing in heavily.

Jovi, against all odds, seems knocked back a little. An unsure smile lurks on her face, as if she doesn't know whether to throw it away. She stands there, silent for once, and bites her lip as she looks on at him. "...I see." Jovi folds her arms across her chest as that smile drops to the floor, a solemn frown taking it's place. "I didn't mean to..." Her words trail off as she lifts her arms over her head and places them behind her neck, continuing hesitantly "...to hurt you."

Ghirahim knows she means his feeling, which she kind of did. But the look on her face sets him back a little. Words fight to break throw his lips but he holds them back.

The silence lingers between them for another moment. "I'm sorry about what happened, by the way. I...I was there the whole time in here-" She points the the back of her head, smiling sheepishly. "I saw everything. You're very brave, you know." Jovi tried to cheer him up but this only left Ghirahim to feel even worse for her.

Letting out a breath, Jovi folds her hands behind her nervously. "I can see you don't want me... I'll leave." She gives a short, reassuring wink then turns to leave.

Ghirahim forces his lips tight as she walks, jogs, then runs away in the opposite direction. The grey mist around soon hiding her from view.

He has no time to collect a thought as the darkness lifts and he's suddenly thrust forward.

His eyes shoot open, half asleep as Ghirahim's vision comes to grip and adjusts to the darkness. But this darkness is solid and real unlike the dream.

He's caught in an awkward position, but nothing works when he tries to move himself. His hands are frozen behind him and his legs won't respond.

That's when he sees the rope bindings, cris-crossed in intricate patterns around his legs and around his waist. A struggled cry escapes his mouth as Ghirahim tries his best to get up but doesn't get a result. He's strapped to something, his arms and legs immobile. Pain burst from his wounds and cuts as he struggles in the mix of rope. The anguish is so sharp and painful he stops dead to take a breath.

So... he had been captured. All he could remember was getting hit by something in the head then blacking out. How Hylia... _Hylia. _Is she safe now? She must be, she rode off with everyone on horseback.

But why had she left him? After everything she'd ever said and done she just... left? It was illogical and completely confusing. All she had_ ever_ wanted was absolute safety for him and she just... left. Like nothing. Like it wasn't even important. Like he wasn't even there at all. But he was, and Hylia had known it. But she left all the same... why?

Ghirahim tries to shake the memory off, telling himself to escape now and think later. To feel sorry for himself once he is safe.

But a rustling in the corner of the dark room makes him freeze, fear taking over him as a door opens and a dull blue light pours over him.

"Well, look who it is..."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: First, <strong>Jovi IS Astrasi!<strong> I'll explian later in the story! _

_Um... lot of things been going on, I got some more followers! Yeah! *claps hands together* I love to see new faces (well, usernames.) following my story. It always feels good... :D My writing has gotten alot better since I first began, as you may have noticed. So some weird things going on in this part. Sorry if I rushed it, I was in a hurry to finnish for all you people! I'm really liking Astrasi/Jovi. I've never writen an OC and it feels weird. But she's coming out good, I hope you guys like her so far! Not much else to say... Follow, Fave and REVEIW! I can't beg you enough!_

_**Zelda Forever! -Vembra **_

_P.S Oh, yeah! The song Jovi sings in the dream... it's real! Honestly, this song is truly powerful and one of my all time faves. It's called **Cosmic Love by Florence and the Machine**. **I see you rolling those eyes!** For real, if your gonna hear any song from that band I keep mentioning please listen to Cosmic Love! It's fricken awesome and will turn to be a theme throught this story... So take a listen!_


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